Murdoch the Vampire Slayer
by Demosthenes23
Summary: I think the title says it all but I will add that this takes place around S4's Bloodlust (surprise, surprise). Also, it's got a similar formula to Oh For the Love of... in that only Murdoch is the odd man out, everyone else has their usual roles.
1. Beginnings

**Y'all can thank **_Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter_** for this fic. I enjoyed it way more than I was expecting. It's completely ridiculous but that's what's so awesome about it! I'm sure I'm stealing a few plot points from that movie but I'm okay with this.**

* * *

**Prologue**

The world was a scary place.

William Murdoch had known this from a very young age after his mother was murdered by the most repulsive creature known to man, the vampire!

His tale of woe begins one terrible night at the tender age of eight.

Murdoch had always been a light sleeper and often wandered around the house at night. The door to his parents room had been slightly ajar and he had gone over with the intent of crawling into bed with them. Little did he know what devilment lay just beyond.

A stranger dressed in long dark clothes was huddled over the side of the bed doing something to his mother that he couldn't quite make out. Murdoch had been close to sounding the alarm but had been too frightened to do so. The stranger lifted his head and stared directly at him with the most terrifying eyes he had ever seen! They were glowing bright red and seemed to pierce right through him, paralyzing him to the spot! As the stranger turned to leave through the open window, Murdoch discerned a gleam of something sharp, white and dangerous.

As soon as he dared to move, he went over to his mother's side and saw the puncture marks in her neck and the still fresh blood trickling down. The sight had made him woozy and he had passed out shortly afterwards. The noise this made finally awoke both of his parents.

Harry, his father, had not believed his story even though the proof was right there in front of his face! Murdoch's mother, Mary, argued that the boy never lied and was not one prone to the fanciful. It didn't matter what they said, Harry simply would not believe what he hadn't seen with his own two eyes.

Though Murdoch kept watch the next night, he accidentally drifted off at one point. When he went to check up on his mother, she was not in her bed! Murdoch had awoken his father and together they had taken a lantern and the family dog to go search for her. They had eventually located her face down in the nearby stream, the last remnants of her life force flowing along with it.

Harry pulled her out of the water and tried to bring her back by shaking her but it was too late. The sound of sorrow that emanated from his father still haunted him to this day.

Jasper had sniffed the ground, barked and then taken off. They chased after him, into the forest for several minutes. When they came into a clearing, the moon illuminated a tall dark figure in the distance atop a forty foot high cliff. He turned around to grin at them demonically, with the same devil eyes shining down on them and then disappeared over the edge.

There was no sign of a body when they searched more thoroughly the next day. And _still_ Harry would not believe Murdoch, (or at least _admit_ to believing him). Instead he took to drinking his days away, rather than attempt to find the creature responsible for his wife's death. Murdoch never forgave him for this and doubted he ever would.

For many years after this while they were raised by relatives, Murdoch was plagued by terrifying nightmares and a burning hatred for the undead creatures. When he was thirteen he attempted to locate the villain who destroyed his family life but was unsuccessful in finding the devil.

His sister Susannah had been kept ignorant of the sordid affair and developed into a well adjusted young lady. At the age of fourteen she had joined the local convent. Murdoch was glad that she was safe from the horrors of the world.

After their father effectively abandoned them, Murdoch went to study with Jesuit Priests in New Brunswick. There he used their vast library to read anything and everything he could about the lore surrounding vampires. His research had been exceedingly brief. The priests library did not contain many works on supernatural entities.

But one of the priests discovered his interest in such things and promised to give him the name and location of an expert on the subject matter. There had been a condition though. Murdoch must turn eighteen and finish his studies with them first. Begrudgingly the teenage boy accepted the priests deal and with great impatience awaited the fateful day that he could learn how to avenge his mothers death.

The expert was situated in a small cabin some distance from a logging camp in Montreal. He was an elderly man by the name of Marcus Paxton. Paxton's knowledge of vampires had been all encompassing and Murdoch had learned what they were capable of, how to find them and most importantly, how to kill them.

While he wasn't training with the man, he worked in the lumber mill. Paxton said there was no better way to hone ones physique than through such gruelling manual labour. At the end of four months, Murdoch was in the best shape of his life.

Finally he was ready to take on his first vampire. Understandably he wanted to immediately go after his mother's killer but Paxton flat out refused. Instead he insisted on Murdoch sticking closer to home. Paxton gave him a name of a fellow logger and Murdoch had located and killed him by decapitation, the only sure fire way to make sure a vampire was truly dead.

Of course Murdoch wasn't so naive as to blindly murder someone without first finding proof. So he tracked the man for several nights and when he was satisfied that Paxton had correctly identified the logger for what he truly was, then and only then, Murdoch ended its plague inducing existence.

This exercise was repeated several more times over before Murdoch was granted leave to hunt down his mothers killer. Surprisingly the trail did not end in Nova Scotia, but rather _started_ there. It took almost a full year to locate the disgusting creature's whereabouts.

Of all places it had settled in the busiest place in Canada, the city of Toronto! Murdoch was initially surprised by this because there were so many more witnesses and so many more chances to be found out in the city than in a little hamlet in the middle of nowhere. But then he remembered that this particular creature was a daredevil and liked taking chances. Three more days passed before he discovered the monster's lair. The abomination was staying at The Queen's Hotel of all places!

With baited breath Murdoch waited for the 'man' to return to his room so that he could jump out and surprise him. Just before sun rise the creature returned and Murdoch lunged at him with his trusty silver tipped axe. But the vampire was too fast for him and narrowly dodged getting his head chopped off. With the axe embedded in the wall, Murdoch was reduced to using a far less useful weapon, a wooden stake. The creature avoided this attack as well, snapping the stake in half and flinging Murdoch across the room and onto the bed.

Though dazed, Murdoch retrieved his next weapon, (a pistol with silver bullets) and aimed for its head. He missed, hitting the far side of the room instead. Before he knew it, the vampire was by his side, wrenching the gun out of his hands and partially crushing it. Then it grabbed him by the neck one handed, and began squeezing him into oblivion.

Using the last of his strength, (and wits) Murdoch found his silver knife and blindly slashed at the creature's hand. It hissed at him and dropped him to the floor. Murdoch took the opportunity to stick it into its heart. It screeched louder and attempted to pull out the blade. While the vampire was distracted, Murdoch ran to the wall and with a massive effort yanked out his axe. Spinning around, he hurled it at the monster's head, splitting it in two and finally the horrid thing collapsed to the ground, still clutching at the knife in its chest.

Their scuffle had made a considerable amount of noise in the near quiet of the early morn and Murdoch knew it was only a matter of time before the constabulary arrived (something he had never had to deal with before in small towns). So he retrieved his bloody knife and axe and hightailed it out of there, climbing out the window and scaling the wall to the back lot.

Even so it was a very near thing. Just as he dashed into a nearby alley, the boys in blue ran past, hollering at people to get out of the way. Somehow Murdoch made it back to the place where he was staying without being caught. For the first time in years, he slept like a baby, with a gleeful smile across his face.

The next day he travelled back to Montreal to thank Paxton for all he had done. The man wanted to know what he planned on doing with the rest of his life. Murdoch thought logging suited him just fine. Paxton disagreed. He told him that there was a growing number of vampires crossing the border and it was his duty to help stem the tide of malice. So for the next decade he travelled all over the country, killing whatever vampires he could find, occasionally teaming up with other hunters and later swapping horror stories over a pint of spruce beer.

As the kill count rose, so did his reputation. It wasn't long before he became a bit of a legend among other hunters (and the hunted) and those predisposed to believing strange stories overheard in taverns. Besides his keen mind, which many claimed was second to none, he had invented a number of apparati that were exceedingly useful in taking out the trash. His most notable and recent invention were a pair of parabolic lenses, that allowed him to see in the dark without being seen himself! As one can imagine, this allowed him to even out the playing field against the night walkers and many other hunters requested he make them a pair.

In 1893 he found himself back in Toronto to deal with a slippery vampire that had eluded him for weeks. Once the devil had been disposed of, he decided to take a bit of a break and actually take a look around the city, to see what it had to offer. His recollection of the place was hazy (since his mind had been consumed with a single goal) but he was still pretty sure that it had vastly changed since his last visit.

During the next day he came across a beautiful woman in the park. Thus far his life had been devoted to ridding the world of monsters and he had never really had any time for such things (but mostly he had stayed away from forming any real attachments for fear of losing them to a vampire seeking revenge). Try as he might, he simply couldn't stay away from her and he followed her around like he would his prey, working up the nerve to approach her. Somehow the idea of talking to her was more terrifying than facing three vampires at once, unarmed!

Eventually she had noticed him and then he had no choice but to go over. The conversation was awkward and stilted at first, (mostly on his end) but once they found their rhythm it became easy enough, like shooting a vampire in the head at close range with a shotgun.

After thirteen years of supernatural service, he decided he deserved a change. So he applied to become a constable and attend to the more mundane evils of the world. Not surprisingly his abilities made him a valuable asset among the constabulary and for a time, many of the younger lads looked up to him.

Before long Liza and he began courting and not long after that they were engaged! About a month before they were to be married, his worst fear came true and his beloved was killed by one of the vile monsters! He blamed himself for becoming attached, for inadvertently luring them to Liza, and worse than that, for becoming sloppy and losing his edge.

Murdoch vowed he would never love again.

Once he tracked down her killer, and disposed of them, he left the city, never intending to come back. But four years later he received a letter from a hunter friend (something Murdoch verified by comparing to an old letter, always wary to their tricks), urging him to return as he was in desperate need of help with a particularly cunning and dangerous group of vampires.

Reluctantly Murdoch agreed. His friend, Malcolm, had saved his life the last time they worked together and Murdoch was the type to repay his debts. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, Malcolm was nowhere to be found! Murdoch investigated his friends hotel room for clues. There were none. Nor was there any information about the vampires he had been hunting.

Only one conclusion could be reached. The bastards had gotten to him first and erased all evidence of their existence!

Murdoch intended to make them pay. But first he needed to figure out who 'they' were.

He received a clue in the form of a dead young school girl. If the paper was to be believed, she had been found face first in a bird bath yesterday...after being drained of a substantial amount of blood.

The parallel to his own mother's death was unsettling but little more than a coincidence.

Now it was up to him to ascertain the creatures responsible and exterminate them. But once this 'case' was finished, he would leave Toronto forever, and nothing, and no one, would ever change his mind.

* * *

**I apologize if anyone found it a bit too soon to read about his mothers death after this weeks episode but I had already written this before that aired. Just a strange coincidence I guess.**


	2. Common Ground

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Inspector Thomas Brackenried. "Is that you, Murdoch?"

"Indeed it is, Tom," he replied holding out his hand and smiling. "It's been awhile."

The inspector seemed taken aback by this very informal name usage but then must have realized that it was all right since Murdoch was not one of his employees any longer.

"Damn straight it has!" Brackenreid hollered, grabbing his hand with an equal amount of strength. Murdoch was impressed that the older man had retained so much vitality even though he rarely left from behind his desk. "What the bloody hell happened to you?! You were here one minute and gone the next!"

Murdoch glanced away. "I'm afraid I could no longer stay after the...unfortunate event."

Brackenreid became apologetic looking, something unusual for him. "Yes, of course. Goddamn tragedy that was. It still boils my blood that we never caught the lunatic responsible! What kind of man bleeds a person dry?"

The inspector gave him a curious look, apparently just realizing something. "Strangely enough, we seem to be dealing with a similar case."

"Surely you don't think there's a connection? Liza was murdered over four years ago."

"Oh come now, Murdoch!" Murdoch was vaguely amused that the inspector was incapable of using his Christian name.

_Perhaps he doesn't actually remember it?_

"I know you were just a constable but I always thought you had a keener mind than that! Besides, there are no coincidences when dealing with murder!"

_If you truly believed that you would be arresting me right now._

Pretending to ponder that piece of wisdom he said, "Hmm, I suppose you are right. Then it's possible that the same madman is on the loose again." In reality, Liza's killer was headless and buried in a forest, where he always disposed of his victims. Grabbing Brackenreid's arm for dramatic effect he said, "Thomas, you must let me help with the investigation!"

In fact that was the only reason he had made contact with station house four again. All of his other leads had hit dead ends and he needed to know if they had any valuable information he could use.

The inspector observed him silently for a few moments. "Sure, Murdoch. Bugalugs needs all the help he can get!"

"Thank you, Tom!" he said, wringing his hand enthusiastically. "You won't regret this!"

_Stop it William! Don't over do it!_

"But first you need to join me for a wee swallow and tell me what brings you to this great city once more."

_Perhaps I underestimated you. You're not quite so trusting after all._

"It would be my pleasure," he said with an almost genuine smile.

* * *

As he exited the inspector's office, he was assailed by several of the constables, most notably an energetic fellow by the name of George Crabtree or the Bugalugs that the inspector had alluded to.

"Oh my goodness!" George yelped, grabbing him into a bear hug. "It's so good to see you again, Will!"

"Yes, you too, George," Murdoch replied, restraining himself from reverting to the usual manoeuvres he would employ when under such duress. It wouldn't help his investigation if he accidentally snapped a police man's neck in the police station. "Now if you don't mind, would you kindly release me?"

The constable did, looking embarrassed, and apologized for his lack of proper conduct.

"It's quite all right, George," he replied, smoothing out his uncomfortable, overly starched suit. Murdoch normally favoured looser clothing as it allowed him greater freedom of movement which could mean the difference between life and death at any given moment. He had hated the constable uniform he was required to wear all those years ago but he had put up with it in order to be with the woman he loved. But if he wanted to look presentable, (and not like some sort of vagabond in rustic attire, sticking out like a sore thumb in the city) he had to wear a suit again. Murdoch had also shaved and slicked back his hair, even donning a bowler hat for good measure. He felt ridiculous (just as he had while courting Liza) but there was nothing for it.

"It is my understanding that you have been working lead on the Amy Goldham case."

The other constables dispersed at this point, some with disappointed looks, likely hoping to hear what he had been up to since they last saw him. If time permitted he might very well fill them in with the same lies he had told the inspector but he doubted this very much as his hands were bound to be full soon enough and he would leave right after his task was accomplished.

"Yes, I have been," he said nodding, pulling on his lapels, puffing out his chest. Murdoch couldn't help but note that from behind, they would probably look pretty similar right about now. Not that he really thought George could ever successfully impersonate him. "Detective Fallon has become indisposed with a nasty case of influenza."

_Influenza, eh?_ The effects of the vampires bite, specifically its venom, (reserved for those that they wanted out of the way) could be mistaken for such a thing. The body often tried to fight off the poisonous infection through a terrible fever. It was never successful without intervention.

"Rather unseasonable for such a thing."

"My thinking exactly, Will!" The acting detective looked at him appraisingly for a second and then placed a hand on his shoulder. In a low conspiratorial voice he whispered, "I have my suspicions that the detective is really suffering from that."

The average person thought George Crabtree was full of fanciful ideas and wild theories. Murdoch thought he was very perceptive to the real nature of things. But he had never told the younger man this because he had given up that lifestyle when they last worked together. Still, he wished he had stuck up for him once in awhile when the other constables and in particular, Brackenreid had picked on him for his unusual beliefs.

Murdoch was curious as to what George thought was going on, and how close to the mark he actually was. So he played along, "If not that, then what?"

George glanced around a bit and noticed some constables staring at them.

"Step into my office, Will, and I will explain further."

Once inside the acting detective dramatically turned to face his audience.

"It is my belief that a vampire is responsible for his condition!"

Murdoch raised an eyebrow politely. "A vampire, George?"

"They're these foul undead creatures-"

"Yes, thank you," he said smiling. "I am familiar with the concept. I was simply enquiring as to your theory."

"So you believe me then?!"

"Your _theory_, George."

"Right! So this is what I _think_ happened. The vampire got a little too greedy during its feeding frenzy and accidentally killed Amy Goldham, necessitating the constabularies involvement! And what better way to stonewall the investigation than to take out the detective!"

Exactly his thinking so far. But he wanted to see just how thought out George's theory really was.

"And why exactly did the vampire not simply remove Amy's body after it had its way with her? Why risk leaving any evidence behind of its undead existence?"

George observed him suspiciously. "Are you mocking me, Will?"

"Not at all, George. I find this all very fascinating. I'm just trying to make sure that you haven't overlooked anything."

Hands steepled in front of his face he said, "Well, as to your previous questions, there are only two possibilities that I can see."

"And those would be?"

"Either the vampire is a cocky sort that doesn't fear being discovered by the living or...a vampire hunter must have shown up!"

_Bingo._

"Think about it for a minute! It makes perfect sense! Who else could scare off something as fearsome as a vampire?!"

_Indeed, who else?_

"If you are correct, then wouldn't it mean that this hunter has already taken care of your murderer?"

Either Malcolm was taken out by the devil or he succeeded in overpowering it and later was dealt with by the other vampires. Murdoch had searched the woods near the girls school but had found no evidence of a recently buried body, living or undead, so he had no clue yet what was going on.

"Not necessarily, Will. As of yet, there's no way to say for sure what happened that night." George made a face. "Unfortunately, it will be hard to follow this line of enquiry since the inspector requested I give him an actual living suspect."

"Perhaps I can assist you in that endeavour?"

The acting detective's face lit up. "Really? You would do that?"

Murdoch shrugged. "I've got nothing else to do and I'm up for a bit of a challenge."

_And someone will need to look out for you or you will suffer the same fate as Detective Fallon._


	3. The Cure

Since Detective Fallon's days were numbered, Murdoch made sure to visit him straight away, albeit in secret, slinking away while George got into a bickering match with Constable Higgins about the adventure novel he was writing.

Murdoch hoped the man lived in the same building or it would take longer to track him down and he didn't want to waste too much of the remaining daylight on this task. Murdoch had worked with Fallon briefly, acting as his right hand man on murder investigations. It had been annoying to be told what to do and how to do it by someone stupider than him. But Fallon was a good family man and didn't deserve to die at the hands of one of those foul creatures, so Murdoch would give him the only known remedy for combating vampire venom; vampire blood!

One might think this would turn a man into one of them but it didn't, at least not on its own. In order to make the transition, the victim had to drink human blood after ingesting vampire blood. Otherwise nothing happened.

Just a few drops would do the trick which was fortunate because that was all Murdoch had on him at the moment. He had devised a special cold box (that resembled a metal lunch box) that the blood could be stored in so that it would not spoil.

Normally Murdoch would have snuck in through the back door using his skeleton key but in this instance it was unnecessary because he knew the man and shouldn't have problems getting in. Besides which, it was broad daylight! No need to risk getting arrested for such an insignificant thing as breaking and entering.

A bony woman answered the door, one that Murdoch recognized as Fallon's wife. From what he could recall, she was a most disagreeable sort. She eyed him and his cold box suspiciously.

"We don't want any," she said, attempting to close the door.

_Oh yes you do._

He stuck his foot in the way.

"Oh this?" he replied pleasantly. "This is just my dinner. Mrs. Fallon, if you'll be so kind as to let me introduce myself prop-"

"Go on then."

"My name is William Murdoch and I used to assist your husband on cases. We-"

"How come I've never seen you before?"

_Perhaps I should have broken in after all?_

"I assure you that we have met but it was many years ago at the policeman's ball..." Attempting to be charming by being self deprecating he continued, "and I have a very forgettable face."

"No, wait a minute," she said squinting at him, "I think I _do_ recall you. What do you want?"

_You're a ray of sunshine, now aren't you?_

"An acquaintance of mine informed me that your husband had taken ill and-"

"What of it?"

"And I was wondering if perhaps I could visit with him for a short while."

"Well, suit yourself but I wouldn't go near him if I were you." She scowled. "You and that lady doctor are off your nut."

_Lady doctor? Doctor Ogden perhaps?_

Murdoch had met her previously while dropping off evidence for various different cases and after she had performed the autopsy on Liza. Other than that they hadn't talked or interacted much so he didn't know much about her or her personality. But obviously she was quite intelligent and determined if she had managed to become a doctor.

"She wouldn't be here by any chance, would she?"

If Dr. Ogden was visiting her patient, it would be quite difficult to give Fallon the cure without her noticing but Murdoch didn't want to have to come back later when the investigation was underway.

"As a matter of fact, she is. But I assume she'll be leaving soon enough. She better."

In that case he would say a quick hello and with any luck she would be on her way. They did not have the same ties as he did with Brackenreid and George so there was no reason that she should take an active interest in him.

"Anyway, they're at the end of the hallway, last door on the left."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said tipping his hat to her, something gentlemen apparently did all the time. The woman made no move to escort him. "I'll just see myself there."

He was about to turn the handle when it turned of its own accord and a woman about his height almost banged her head against his. He prevented this from happening by grabbing hold of her shoulders, instantly stopping her forward momentum, almost dropping his cold box as a result.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, free hand to her chest (the other had a medical bag in it). He noted the engagement ring there and wondered if he had met the man she was to wed. "I'm terribly sorry, sir! I didn't see you there!"

He released his grip on her and she collected herself.

"It's quite all right, doctor," he said flashing her a smile. "No harm done."

She looked at him curiously. "William? William Murdoch?"

He was slightly surprised for two reasons. One, because she had blatantly used his Christian name even though they barely knew one another and two because he hadn't expected her to remember him so quickly.

"Indeed, Dr. Ogden, it is I."

"Oh I'm terribly sorry," she repeated again, giggling slightly. "Forgive me for addressing you thusly. I was simply a bit flustered."

Flustered because she had almost knocked him over or for some other unknown reason?

"It's quite all right."

She seemed in no hurry to move out of the way and he had to restrain himself from removing her from the doorway so that he could get this simple task over and done with.

"Are you here to see the detective?"

_Why else would I be here?_

"Yes."

"I'm afraid that I've just given him some mercury and heroin," she said apologetically. "I'm not sure how communicative he will be."

"No worries, doctor, I just wanted to stop in for a bit to say hello."

"How kind of you. But I must also warn you that he is highly infectious."

_You have no idea._

"If you were willing to brave it, so am I."

She smiled at that.

"If you don't mind my asking, what brings you back to Toronto?"

"Business."

Hopefully one or two word responses would speed up the process of 'small talk.' He was growing weary of old acquaintances wanting to know how he had been for the past four years. He much preferred being on his own and not having to answer to anyone for his actions, especially considering so many of them were morally questionable from an outside perspective.

"What sort of business?"

"Personal."

Somewhat hesitatingly she asked, "And how long do you intend to stay _this_ time?"

"Not long."

She seemed a bit disappointed for some reason but then laughed a little. "Still not much of a conversationalist, I see."

"It's not that, doctor, it's just that I have many things to do today and I only have so much time in which to do them."

"Ah, well then I'll just be getting out of your way now."

_Yes, please do._

Further down the hallway she cocked her head in order to glance back at him. He hurried into the room.

The detective's awareness was semi-conscious at best, so it should be very easy to inject him with the last remnants of vampire blood. He opened his cold box and retrieved the needle and the tiny jar holding the cure. Filling it as much as possible, he then pulled the detective's collar back with the intent of finding the vampire's bite. The vampire blood had to be injected directly into the wound in order to work.

Fallon glanced at him briefly and coughed. "What's my prognosis, doctor?"

"You'll be just fine soon enough."

"That's good," he murmured and closed his eyes again.

Murdoch frowned slightly when he couldn't locate the bite. Though the neck was the most common place for feeding, as it provided easy access and the strongest flow, it wasn't every vampires preferred feeding site. And when it came to them infecting someone with their venom, it was often the wrist or hand area.

So Murdoch rolled back his sleeves and checked those areas as well. His brow furrowed further when he still couldn't locate the site of infection. Murdoch pulled back the sheet to glimpse Fallon's bare feet, also finding nothing. Since he wasn't about to start stripping the man's clothing off, he instead did what he should have done earlier and examined Fallon's eyes.

They did not have the characteristic 'dead' look to them. Usually they would be glazed with a number of popped blood vessels. Fallon's looked normal enough. Murdoch begrudgingly came to the conclusion that he had been wrong and that the detective really _was_ suffering from a typical case of influenza.

Being a curious sort, he wondered if he had been wrong about anything else. There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Murdoch headed to the morgue and when he couldn't find Dr. Ogden, decided to open up the cold storage himself to take a look at Amy's body. He wheeled the girl out into the viewing area and better lighting and picked up a nearby magnifying glass.

Hunching over, he used it to peer closely at the puncture marks on her neck. Murdoch stared at the two holes for much longer than was necessary, disbelieving at what he was seeing. These wounds were clearly _not_ the result of a vampires bite!

If his recollection was accurate, he had seen precisely two hundred and three vampire bites during his illustrious career. There was _no_ way he would mistake the genuine article for whatever had caused this.

_A snake? _

_Not very likely so high up...unless she was already on the ground?_

But Toronto was not home to any poisonous snakes. And besides which, a snake would not have drained her of her blood. Nor would a bat or any other creature he could think of.

"Excuse me, sir," said a stern voice, bringing him back to reality, "what on earth are you-William?"

_Again with using his Christian name. What was that about?_

"Forgive the intrusion, doctor, but you weren't here and as I said before, time is of the essence." Coming up with a plausible story on the spot he continued, "The inspector authorized my visit. He wanted me to take another look at the body." For good measure he added, "I've been told I have a very keen mind."

Looking confused she approached and said, "_This_ is the personal business you had to attend to?"

He nodded and became somber. "The inspector believes that the same madman responsible for killing my dear Liza, did away with Amy Goldham as well. He thought I would take an active interest in this case."

The doctor's face dropped and she rubbed her arm. "Oh yes, that was a terrible, terrible business." Catching his eye she said, "I do hope you've managed to find a measure of happiness since then."

Murdoch faked a smile and said, "It's been difficult but I have moved on."

She looked to his fingers apparently expecting to see a wedding band there. If he wasn't much mistaken her eyes seemed to light up ever so slightly when they discovered that there was none.

_How odd._

"I'm glad to hear it," she said staring at him strangely.

"Well, I should get going then. George probably thinks a vampire has done me in by now."

The doctor smiled. "Yes, he does have rather colourful theories, doesn't he?"

Before he managed to take two steps she continued with, "Did you discover anything of value?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I can't make heads or tails of the puncture marks."

"So you _don't_ believe that a vampire drained Amy of her blood?" she said jokingly.

Intensely seriously he replied, "With complete certainty, no."

She appraised him for a second and then chuckled. "I wasn't being serious, Mr. Murdoch."

Smiling, "But of course." He tipped his hat to her and said, "Good day, doctor," and promptly left.

_What the devil is going on here?_


	4. Unraveling the Mystery

Back at the precinct he located the case file in Fallon's office and skimmed through it briefly. The medical report further proved just how wrong he had been. Not only had the girl died due to forced drowning, _not _blood loss, (something the paper hadn't gone into specifics about) but her blood had been laced with alcohol and opiates! It was possible that Amy had taken to drugs of her own accord but he didn't think it likely. So there was some other reason all together for their presence, one that continued to allude him.

A gruff voice broke him out of his trance. "Find anything useful?"

Murdoch cocked his head to face the inspector. "Not so much useful as unusual."

Brackenreid made a face. "Care to elaborate?"

"Tom, can you tell me where George has gotten off to?"

"He's headed back to the school. It was the only way to separate that childish lot from their racket."

Murdoch glanced at Higgins looking dejected at his desk. "I will go assist him now."

Brackenreid nodded as he left.

* * *

Always struggling to keep up with the same fitness regime of his youth, Murdoch made sure to 'borrow' one of the constables bicycles as his mode of transport. It had been years since he had ridden and he almost fell off a few times but quickly enough got the hang of it again. He had forgotten how liberating the experience was; he could go as fast as his strength allowed with the cold air rushing past, almost like an invigorating elixir, perking his spirits and getting his brain to work overtime.

Amy had obviously been subdued with drugs in order to be bled. The implication being that it had been against her will. There was no other explanation. However, he still had no idea who could have done this or why. Hopefully the residents of the boarding school would be able to shed some light on the matter. And if they couldn't, well, then he'd know for sure that he had been barking up the wrong tree this whole time and Malcolm's disappearance was completely unrelated to Amy's death. In which case he would be left in a bit of a moral quandary. He had offered his help on this case; to back out so soon would mean going against his word. But Malcolm had been a pupil of his and there was always the slim possibility that he was still alive. How could Murdoch waste time on a case involving an already dead girl when there was a chance he could save his still living friend?

* * *

George was in the middle of talking to one of the school girls when he arrived. He approached them, immediately drawing her attention towards him.

The acting detective looked over his shoulder and said, "There you are, Will! Where-"

"Don't let me interrupt your enquiries, George. By all means, continue."

"Well, anyway, Miss Dennet," he said holding up a wad of papers, "can you tell me who was the author of these love letters?"

_Love letters?_

It seemed more and more likely that this case was unrelated to his. He was already pondering when the best time to take his leave was.

"No, sir, I'm afraid I can't." Staring at Murdoch she said, "But I think he was Amy's boyfriend, her _much_ older boyfriend."

"Do any of the other girls know who penned these?"

"Possibly," she said glancing away. "They are all such terrible gossips. Unlike me."

The dead girl had been murdered by someone living, that much was almost certain. A vampire was unlikely to resort to drowning, especially when there was still fresh blood to be enjoyed.

Murdoch decided to interject here, "Did anyone hold a grudge against Amy?"

Giving him a deadpan stare, "Not that I know of. Everyone loved her. She was the most popular girl in school."

Through so many years of interviewing people afraid to reveal the whereabouts of the murderous vampires in their town, (lest one of the clan escaped and decided to seek revenge) Murdoch had attained an almost supernatural ability to tell when someone was lying. As such, he knew that this Dennet girl was being less than truthful with her first two responses.

He smiled. "Is that not cause for jealousy?"

Continuing to hold his gaze, "I wouldn't know anything about that, sir. I'm only concerned with my studies."

_I'll bet you are._

* * *

"What did you make of her, Will?"

"She's definitely being less than forthcoming."

George was aghast. "Surely you don't think that sweet little girl had something to do with Amy's untimely demise!?"

He had encountered several little girls who would sooner rip your head off than look at you. In fact, one of them had nearly done him in a few years back. That was one of the stories he had never shared with other hunters, and he was even less likely to with George. By all accounts, Murdoch was quite the cynic. He had seen so much horror in his life, it was hard not to be.

"Let's go speak with the headmistress next."

* * *

Mrs. Irvin was evasive about her girls having anything to do with older men, claiming she forbid such things.

"If that's the case, Mrs. Irvin," said George, "then why was Amy out of doors wearing next to nothing in the dead of night?"

"As I told you yesterday, I can't explain it."

Murdoch spoke up next, "If you believe Amy was not involved with anyone outside of these walls, then the only logical conclusion was that someone _within_ them murdered her."

The headmistress blanched at the comment. "Surely you don't think one of my girls had something to do with this tragedy? They're all good girls! None of them would harm a fly!"

_Hmm, she appears to genuinely believe what she is saying. Yet, she definitely knows something about why Amy was out of doors and also who the man in Amy's life was. There must be some connection there._

Despite himself he was getting curious in this case again and decided to stick it out a bit longer before bolting. Besides, it wasn't as though he had any additional leads with which to locate Malcolm.

* * *

"Where are we going, Will?" asked a confused George.

"_We_ are not going anywhere, George. _You_ are going back to the station to research Mrs. Irvin and the school. Go back as far as you can."

"All right," George said without complaint as if he had forgotten that he was the lead on this case.

Murdoch headed to the infirmary. Amy had opiates in her system. Perhaps they came from there? Perhaps after she had been bled there, she had wandered out into the forest?

He easily unlocked the door with his skeleton key, turned on the light and began riffling through the glass cabinet there. The heroin and laudanum stood out to him. But so what if the infirmary had them? Any doctor worth his salt would. There was no way to determine whether or not the drugs came from this location or not. So instead he looked around for any signs of a struggle or blood residue. He could not find any.

Shortly after he left the infirmary, an older man approached him. "Excuse me, sir, but who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Detective William Murdoch," he said flashing the badge he had stolen from Fallon's room. "I'm investigating Amy's death."

Strangely the man's eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly at the mention of his name. He also appeared to be a bit nervous all of a sudden.

"What happened to the other detective?"

"I'm afraid he took ill quite suddenly."

"I see. Well how can I help you detective?"

"You could start by telling me your name."

"Samuel Lane. I'm the headmaster here at The Teppish School for Girls."

_How odd, his pupils just dilated at his own name. Why would he lie about that?_

"And what are your duties here?"

"Shouldn't you know this already?"

"Humour me, sir."

"I keep watch over the grounds and make sure nothing is amiss."

"So you haven't seen any unusual sorts wandering around the place recently?"

"Certainly not."

_He's lying. Does everyone here have a secret?  
_

"What about at night time?"

"I really wouldn't know, detective, I'm asleep by ten o'clock."

_Lying again._

"And yet you have no watchman here?"

"It was never necessary before. There is an eight foot high stone wall around the property and the girls are locked in every night."

Murdoch smiled slightly. "You make it sound like a prison."

"If recent events teach us anything, it's that one can never be too careful these days."

"How very true. Now tell me, sir, where do you reside?"

"Isn't this in your report?"

Murdoch just gave him a look.

"Within the grounds, in the coach house at the edge of the property."

_I will be sure to pay that a visit soon and if I find nothing amiss, I will be on my way._

* * *

Murdoch waited for 'Mr. Lane,' (if that was indeed his real name) to head in the opposite direction across the large grounds before breaking into the coach house. There was nothing out of the ordinary on the upper floor but he wondered what he would find behind the door that led to the basement. He had to use his skeleton key here as well, never a good sign in his experience. Murdoch fingered the only weapon he had on himself currently. A pistol with silver bullets. It was reassuring that it was still there.

It was pitch black. Normally he would put on his trusty night vision goggles but they were bulky and not easily concealable, so he didn't have them on him, which forced him to turn on the light instead. Nothing jumped out at him.

He scanned the relatively small roundish room once to see what he was dealing with. That was all he needed to get a good idea of where Amy had been bled. There were two reclining dentist chairs here, as well as various different sized needles, opiates and tubes.

Along the back wall was what appeared to be a large ice box. Murdoch opened it and shined a light within. He raised both eyebrows at the contents. There were rows and rows of jars filled with a dark liquid. Holding one up to the light, he examined its contents. It was no surprise to him that it had the consistency of blood. What did surprise him was the amount.

_My God! There must be over fifty pints in here!_

Amy had only been drained of three which meant that an awful lot of the girls must have also been bled or it would have taken a very long time to amass this much.

Murdoch didn't want to think about why Lane had such a vast quantity of blood on hand. Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good.

There was a noise upstairs. Some might have turned off the light and hid under the stairs, hoping that they wouldn't be discovered. Murdoch was not the least bit scared and instead leisurely walked up the stairs, only turning the light off at the top because he no longer needed it.

When he opened the basement door, Lane was sitting in a high backed chair, waiting for him. The man was unarmed and Murdoch removed his hand from his pistol.

"That didn't take long. Rather obvious don't you think, coming here straight away."

"I wasn't concerned about how it would look."

"Clearly."

"Who are you really?"

"What an amusing question, coming from the likes of you."

"I knew you recognized my name. You would only fear it if you were working for them."

Lane was silent.

"Where are they? And why on God's green earth do they need gallons of blood?"

No response.

Murdoch walked over to the man and grabbed him by the lapels. "Where is Malcolm Reynolds? What have they done with him?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. They don't tell me much. I just collect the blood."

He was mostly telling the truth but not entirely.

"We both know there's more to it than that."

_But what?_

A flash of inspiration whipped through his consciousness. _Two_ chairs, needles, a mysterious boyfriend, tubes filled with blood.

_Of course! Transfusions!_

He had heard about this being a theoretical way to treat certain ailments but had never seen it in practice.

"Who were the transfusions for? Amy's boyfriend, perhaps?"

Lane seemed unmoved by his questions except for a slight twitch of the eye.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Silence.

Thinking aloud he said, "But what do the vampires have to do with any of this?"

"You best leave now, Mr. Murdoch, before night falls."

"I'm not afraid."

Giving him a piercing stare, "You should be."


	5. The Vampires Den

Still holding onto Lane's lapels, Murdoch asked, "Did you kill Amy?"

"No, I did not."

He was telling the truth.

"Did her boyfriend do it?"

"He would never have done such a thing."

"Do you know who killed her?"

Lane shook his head and Murdoch finally released him.

"Who was Amy's sweetheart and where is he now?"

"Daniel Irvin. I don't know where he is. Neither does Mrs. Irvin. The vampires took him."

"Daniel Irvin?" said Murdoch quizzically. "I saw his coffin in the mausoleum."

"Yes, well, the boy has had a troubled past."

"Why would the vampires take him?"

Lane sighed. "The foolish boy slit his wrists after he learned of Amy's demise. This was more than a bit of a problem. He's a haemophiliac, you see."

_Of course! I should have realized that earlier._

"What does that have to do with the vampires?"

"I tried to transfuse more blood into his system but it wasn't working any longer. His body had suffered too much strain over the years and was rejecting all of it. I suspect that his deteriorating mental state also contributed to this eventuality. The mind is a powerful tool, Mr. Murdoch. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed, Mr. Lane. But about the vampires-"

He held up a hand."Mrs. Irvin begged the vampires to help save her son. Since we were collecting the blood for them, they agreed to. And that's when they took him."

"And you have no idea where they could be?"

"None, whatsoever. They came to me, or rather the same one that I always dealt with did."

There was no point asking what it looked like, he would know it when he saw it.

"Why _are_ you helping them? What's in it for you?"

"I've been fascinated by blood for as long as I can remember. So when the opportunity to study _vampire_ blood came along, I wasn't about to pass it up." Lane's eyes lit up for the first time ever. "It truly is a remarkable substance. The healing properties it possesses are unprecedented."

"If that's the case, why did you not give some to Daniel?"

"_I _didn't have to."

_Oh_.

"You really should leave, Mr. Murdoch, before it's too late."

* * *

He did leave the grounds, not because he was afraid, but rather so that he could change into more comfortable attire (loose fitting dark clothing and leather gloves) and grab the rest of his weapons. He had a funny feeling that he would be needing them soon, _all_ of them. Now that the vampires knew that he was in town, he would not have the element of surprise, so he would be needing all the help that he could get.

Normally he would never be so foolhardy as to attempt to take on multiple unknown targets at night no less but he was still holding out hope that Malcolm might be alive and if that were true, heaven only knew what torment they were invoking on him.

The only major problem was that he didn't know _where_ they were holding him. He had searched the grounds yesterday but hadn't discovered their hiding place. If they were in the city somewhere, it would be that much harder to pinpoint them. But his gut was telling him that this whole thing was quite contained because the vampires wouldn't want to be far from their stock of blood and that he had simply missed something on the grounds. Lately he had been wrong about almost everything. That was the hazard of drinking himself into oblivion for ages after Liza's death and only recently getting back into the land of the living.

After climbing over the stone wall near the coach house, he implemented his night vision apparatus, and did a quick scan of the area. Murdoch could discern no shapes or movement surrounding the building. With axe at the ready he crept closer towards it, as silently as possible. About a third of the way there, he noticed a light and movement coming from the direction of the cemetery. Quickly he course corrected and swiftly made his way over there.

The light was now coming from the mausoleum, the gate left opened behind whoever it was. When Murdoch was nearer he discerned voices within, _familiar_ voices.

_Oh great._

"...here, George?"

"For the last time, Henry, there's something fishy about Daniel Irvin's death and as the acting detective on this case, it behooves me to find out what!"

He made his way around to the side where a small window was located. The illumination from their lanterns made his goggles unnecessary so he took them off, letting them hang around his neck by a string, like a bizarre necklace.

"Yes, but why am_ I_ here too? My shift ended half an hour ago."

"Because I am in charge and I ordered you to be here!"

Even if Murdoch couldn't currently see them, he would have been able to hear the smirk now crossing the constables face. "Sounds to me like you were just afraid to be alone."

"I was not, Henry! I simply wanted a second set of hands to help me lift this blasted marble lid! It weighs a ton! Speaking of which, would you stop your infernal complaining and lend a hand?"

"Fine, George, but then I'm out of here."

"No, you can't leave!"

"Aha!" Henry exclaimed, uncharacteristically gleeful. "I _knew_ you were afraid! I can't believe you think vampires are going to attack you, George, that's just ludicrous! When are you going to grow up?"

George grumbled and started pushing on the lid, Henry assisting him a little while later. They moved the lid about halfway off. From his current vantage point, he could not make out what they were seeing, but whatever it was, was unexpected.

"What in the blazes is that?" said Henry, making a disgusted face.

George seemed more saddened than anything else. "It appears to be a dog."

"But if a dog's in there, where is Daniel?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Henry."

"So can we leave now?"

George stared at the dog for a few more seconds and then looked at his companion. "Oh, all right."

Murdoch wasn't worried about the vampires attacking the men. So far they had tried to stay out of the limelight as much as possible. Amy's escape and subsequent murder was obviously something they hadn't counted on.

With that distraction out of the way, Murdoch made his way into the mausoleum to get a first hand look at the coffin's contents. They were correct, the corpse was that of a dog, one that was partially decomposed, giving it a bit of a ghoulish look.

He was going to head out, back towards the coach house, when he noticed something here that he hadn't noticed before in the daylight. The moonlight was showcasing slight silvery scraping marks to the side of the other coffin in here, the one belonging to Daniel's grandfather.

_How curious._

Murdoch pushed on it normally but could not budge the coffin. Next he leaned his back against it and using Daniel's coffin as leverage for his feet, heaved with all his might. Finally the coffin began to give way. Not long after this, a staircase was revealed, one that he almost fell down due to his awkward positioning.

Thankfully he didn't and putting his goggles back on, stealthily made his way into the vampires den, thinking this was just about the most reckless thing he had ever done, besides perhaps falling in love.

Again, nothing jumped out at him. This underground area was quite frigid and had a low ceiling of only seven feet. If Murdoch jumped now, he would likely bash his head. As well, it would make swinging an axe around that much harder, should the need arise. There were several little alcoves filled with makeshift beds. Very carefully he tiptoed over to the nearest one. Not surprisingly it was empty. As soon as the sun set these undead creatures awoke from their slumber, that was how it had been for centuries of time, according to Paxton and the ancient books he had possessed. No one knew how they had been created. Some say it was a curse cast by a powerful witch to get revenge against one who had hurt her in a terrible way. This single 'man' had spawned generations of his kind, doomed to live in eternal darkness with an unquenchable thirst.

Murdoch didn't have any theories of his own. Nor did he care how they came to be. All he cared about was killing them so that they couldn't hurt the innocent.

At the end of this chamber there was a cage with a prone figure in it. Murdoch hoped it was Malcolm. Beside that was a large chair with a man sitting in it, at least what appeared to be a man. This person was dressed in a simple suit, nothing too presumptuous, and was fairly attractive, at least, he would have been had he not had the same face as his mother's murderer!

Without a single thought more he whipped out his pistol and took aim at its forehead, firing two shots off. They seemed to make contact but when he blinked the creature was no longer there. Murdoch whirled around in a circle but could not find it. The noise awoke the person in the cage and he grabbed the bars and looked in his direction. Murdoch was not aware of this though, he was too busy trying to stay alive.

"Please don't try that again, Mr. Murdoch," said a disembodied British voice, the sound echoing all around so that he could not pinpoint it's location, even with the night vision goggles. "I dislike being shot at. And trust me, you don't want to see me get angry."

"I killed you!" he cried. "You can't be here!"

"Ah, there you are wrong. You killed someone who looked like me, that much is true. He was my brother, you see."

Blood pounding in his ears, he screamed, "What are you waiting for then?! Hurry up and seek your revenge!"

"Revenge? Who said anything about that?"

The man in the cage took the opportunity to speak up. "Will, for the love of God, get the hell out of here!"

"Malcolm?!" Murdoch yelled, running over to him. "You're alive!"

"For the moment! And if you want to keep breathing you better skedaddle!"

"I can't just leave you here!"

"I'm afraid no one is going anywhere, not until we've had a little chat."

As the voice finished speaking, an ugly grinding sound could be heard, that of stone against stone! The exit had just been sealed!


	6. The Talk

"I have no wish to speak to you!" exclaimed Murdoch, still vainly trying to locate the creature. How is it that I cannot find it even with my night vision goggles? There are no rafters to hide in! Is it really just that fast?

"Oh, I think you are going to want to hear what I have to say. So if you'd be so kind as to lend me your ear, then we can get this show on the road."

The vampire appeared again in its seat, quite close by to Murdoch, making him jump involuntarily. He attempted to level the gun at it once more and the creature sighed and grabbed the weapon out of his hand.

Murdoch reached for the axe slung over his back and the vampire gave him a piercing stare and said, "Enough!" causing his muscles to spasm in pain, giving Murdoch no choice but to remove his hand from the shaft.

"What _was_ that?" he said out loud accidentally.

"Compulsion. The same thing I used on your friend Malcolm here to write you that letter."

In all his years of hunting, he had never heard of or experienced this ability. It was either exceedingly rare or the vampire before him was exceedingly old. Or both. Murdoch was leaning towards the former since its brother had not attempted to use the ability to save its life. Suddenly he didn't have high hopes of getting out of here alive and his heart rate skyrocketed again.

"Now, now, there's no need to be afraid. As I told you before, I simply wanted to have a little chat with you."

Murdoch didn't respond but moved out in front of it a slight distance as if that would give him the advantage should the vampire attack.

Needing some time to figure out how best to kill it, he said, "Go on then. Talk."

"No, don't listen to it, Will! All it'll tell you is lies! You can't-"

The vampire glared at Malcolm and said, "Silence!" and there was silence.

"Thank you, Mr. Murdoch. Let me formally introduce myself. My birth name is Jonathan Murray though I generally go by the name Balthazar. I've lured you here tonight so that we can discuss the future, man to man."

"You're no man. You're a monster!"

Balthazar smiled. "Everything is either black or white with you hunters, isn't it? There is no middle ground. This rather narrow view of the world has become a thorn in my side, in all of our sides, one that I intend to have removed...permanently."

Murdoch said nothing.

"You've made quite the reputation for yourself over the years, Mr. Murdoch, and I would commend you for such tireless efforts if only you hadn't been obliterating my kind...many of which were in their sleep. Of course, the entirety of the blame cannot be solely placed on your shoulders for there are many other hunters out there. _But_ it can't be denied that you are one of the best, if not _thee_ best. And that is why I have chosen to speak with you. I wish to change your perspective in the hopes that you will spread the word to the other hunters. I wish to reach a truce."

_ That's not likely to happen._

"Still nothing to say? What if I told you that at this very moment there are ten vampires at various different locations throughout the city and they could rip the throat out of countless humans if I so desired?"

He had seen the number of beds down here but didn't want to believe it. "_That_ is your idea of a truce? I think you misunderstand the meaning of the word."

The vampire smiled again. "I am simply trying to illustrate my power over my children." Gesturing with its hand, "My will is thy command sort of thing. No matter how badly they thirst, they cannot act without my say so. How else do you think we've managed to stay undiscovered in this city for so long?" It paused for a second and then continued. "Which brings me to the salient point of the evening. We wish to be a part of the world again, and not have to hide away like rats, afraid to be stomped upon by the likes of you."

Murdoch scowled. Mustering more courage than he felt he said, "As long as you prey on the innocent, you will never be free from my wrath!"

"Ah but you see, that is no longer an issue."

"What do you mean?"

Balthazar laughed slightly. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a genius. Have you not been to the coach house?"

_Oh, right._

"You're still harming innocents! Those girls had no idea what you were doing to them!"

"Yes, but that needn't be the case. Think about it for a minute. If Dr. Harwick and others like him were allowed to continue their studies, they would soon devise a method for safe transfusions. It would revolutionize the world of modern medicine. In so doing, the general populace would be called upon to...donate their own blood to help save lives. We would simply skim off the top every now and again. We would never have to harm another human, ever. We could finally co-exist with one another peacefully."

Murdoch asked something then that he had been curious about for a long time.

"If you were willing to go to such lengths, why not drink the blood of animals?"

"Unfortunately it is not palatable to us. And even if we were to gag the vile stuff down, it would do nothing to quench our thirsts. No, I'm afraid only human blood will do."

"Your idea is all well and good but what you are suggesting is miles down the road. Until then your kind will continue to feed on mine...and kill us more often than not. And even if Dr. Harwick is successful in his labours, there is no telling that there will be enough blood for all of you. Or that some would not go on a killing spree regardless. You can't expect me to believe that _all_ of them are under your control."

"Yes, you are correct in your last remark. I only have control over the ones that I have personally sired. But I have conferred with the other ancients and they assure me that they will keep their children in line until we reach our goals."

"So you're an ancient then?"

"Indeed."

"And I killed your twin brother."

_Meaning it is possible for me to kill you._

Balthazar made a face. "I loved him but he was reckless and stupid. He was a disgrace to our family name. He killed every person he ever drank from. He had no control whatsoever, never_ wanted_ to have any. And he abandoned all those that he sired, leaving them to fend for themselves. A great number of the ones you hunted were his offspring." Its expression changed to one of contemplation. "I _have_ wondered about that though; how you managed to kill him. Such a fledgling hunter shouldn't have been able to take down an ancient. You must have just gotten very lucky that day."

"It wasn't luck, it was pure unadulterated hate."

"I _am_ sorry about that. Children should not be burdened with the death of a parent."

There was a somber quiet.

"But back to the matter at hand. Do you agree to our terms, Mr. Murdoch?"

"Just to be crystal clear, what were they again?"

The vampire smiled. "We will stop hunting you if you will stop hunting us. It's as simple as that."

_I highly doubt that._

"What about all the vampires that your brother spawned? Who will keep them in line?"

"We have people...containing the issue as we speak."

Surprised he said, "Really? You would exterminate your own kind?"

"Do you not do the same thing to those who are unfit for society?"

_He-It had a point._

"How do I know I can trust you to hold up your end of the bargain?"

"We give you our word."

_That is like a drug addict telling me that they will never use again._

"I don't take much stock in words, only actions. Maybe if after a month I haven't heard of any more strange deaths or disappearances, I could start to believe you. But until then, I can't in good conscience speak for all of my people."

"Oh but you aren't, Mr. Murdoch, just the ones in Canada. Representative's like yourself are being offered this very same deal the world over."

"It seems to me that perhaps you should have chosen a different representative. How do you expect me to even consider trusting you when you look exactly like my mother's murderer?!"

"That is _precisely_ why I picked you. If ones such as us with so much bad blood between us...pardon the pun...can work out our differences, then there is no reason why this partnership could not succeed."

"And what has been the response to this...partnership as you call it?"

"Much like yours I'm afraid. Disbelief. Anger. Denial. Hunters are so set in their ways, they think they are always in the right. I suppose they would have to in order to slaughter so many of us, as if we were as brainless as cattle."

"What happens if I refuse to accept this offer?"

"That depends...would you not even consider relaying this information to the other hunters?"

"I might...but first I would need a demonstration of your supposed control. I need to see with my own eyes that your...children will obey you."

"Very well." Balthazar was silent for a few seconds and then said, "I have called for my newest child to come here. He should be here momentarily. As you well know, the most recent to turn are also the most volatile and blood thirsty, not unlike your own young. Once he is trapped in this small space with the two of you, he will be incapable of stopping himself from attacking."

The vampire looked past Murdoch and a moment later the marble coffin could be heard moving out of place. A teenage boy appeared at the bottom of the staircase, sniffing the air like a dog.

"Ah, here he is now. Daniel."

"Daniel?!" exploded Murdoch, outraged.. "Why did you turn him?!"

"It was necessary. He was going to die. I saved him."

_Death would have been a better fate than this!_

Murdoch watched as the creature focused on him, its eyes darkening. He knew that if he removed his goggles they would appear bright red. Any time a vampire was about to attack (or had just fed) this happened. Out of habit he gripped the shaft of his axe and prepared to use it.

"I assure you, that won't be necessary."

Daniel exposed his fangs and with a snarl sprinted towards Murdoch, who had now removed his weapon fully.

Right before he was about to swing, the vampire abruptly stopped moving as if it had hit a brick wall and simply stood there, looking irritated. No matter what Balthazar said or demonstrated, Murdoch was not going to take his eyes off of the creature, not for one second.

The ancient one suddenly appeared by the much younger ones side and placed a hand to its squirming shoulder. Daniel was practically salivating in his direction.

"So you see, Mr. Murdoch, here is your proof. He can no more hurt a fly than he can _you_ unless I say so."

"It doesn't seem too happy about being controlled like this."

Balthazar studied him closely for a moment. "Does that help you?"

"What?"

"The lack of pronouns. Does that make it easier to justify what you do to us?"

"There is no justification needed. If one of your kind kills mine, I will put them down. Same as we do to our own, just like you said. It's as simple as that."

"An eye for an eye, how very...biblical of you."

Murdoch just stared at him.

"If I lived by that same philosophy, I would kill you right here and now. But I consider myself more evolved than that."

"So you believe that you are superior to humans? Is that it?"

"I never said that. I simply meant that I see no reason for such needless violence. Like your pointless wars over land and religion. Where does it end? How many lives must be ruined before one side yields to the other? Which once more brings me back to the point. Will you relay this information back to your kind or not?"

Every fibre of Murdoch's being hated the creature in front of him. It had taken immense strength not to attempt to kill it throughout this rather lengthy conversation. But if Balthazar spoke the truth and there was even the remotest possibility that their two species could live together in a less violent parasitic relationship, then he had to at least _entertain_ the notion, however repugnant.

He cocked his head back in Malcolm's direction and tried to scrutinize his friend's feelings about all of this. The caged man seemed to be pondering deep thoughts and was far removed from his current predicament. If only for his sake, Murdoch had to accept. Otherwise the chances of getting out of here alive were slim to none. And besides, even if he _did_ manage to kill the ancient before him, wouldn't that mean his minions would be free to do as they please, to wreak havoc on the city of Toronto?

Staring down Balthazar again he made a fist and said through gritted teeth, "I will."

"Very good," it replied, smiling, holding out its hand.

Murdoch's skin crawled with revulsion as his hand made contact with its cold, undead one.

"Our people will make contact in one months time." Patting a seething Daniel on the back it said, "Come along now my son. Let's get you something to drink." Murdoch opened his mouth and Balthazar caught his eye. "From the stockpile of course. Good night, Mr. Murdoch. And thank you for listening to reason."

Within ten seconds they had left the chamber, leaving the exit unsealed. Murdoch kept his eye on that direction for awhile after that, only half believing that conversation had really happened, not trusting his own mind and senses.

"What the hell are you just standing there for, Will? Get me the hell out of here!"


	7. End of the Line?

"Oh, Will!" exclaimed George as Murdoch approached his desk. "Great news! I believe I have ascertained Amy's killer!"

"Do tell."

"Well after you suggested I look into the history of the school, and subsequently disappeared again..." He shook his head, "never mind, not important...I came across some rather unusual details about Mrs. Irvin's son, Daniel!"

Pretending to be surprised he said, "She has a son?"

George nodded vigourously. "See for yourself!" He handed him a folder. Within was a sketch of a familiar looking teenage boy, who was no longer a boy. "Daniel got into some trouble with the law and she helped fake his death to avoid punishment!"

_It seems fate has finally taken its toll._

"What does this have to do with Amy's killer? Are you saying that Daniel Irvin killed her?"

"Yes, exactly!"

Murdoch fake pondered that for a bit. "You might want to rethink that one, George."

"What do you mean?" George asked, losing a bit of his enthusiasm.

"Have you actually spoken to Daniel?"

"Well, no," said George, "we haven't even been able to locate him. But that's how I _know_ that he is guilty! He is clearly in hiding after murdering Amy!"

"What of your vampire theory? What has become of that?"

"If vampires were involved, Higgins and I would have run into them last night. I'm afraid I was once again mistaken." Becoming glum, he sighed and said, "Maybe Henry is right. Maybe it's time I stop believing in such fanciful things. If they truly existed, surely I would have found some shred of proof by now?"

Feeling badly about all the times he never stood up for George when the lads made fun of him prompted Murdoch to place a hand on his shoulder and say, "I wouldn't give up just yet, George."

As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

The constable looked up at him. "You never used to be so supportive of my ideas." Face lighting up, "Tell me truly, Will, have you seen something since last we met?"  
Taking his hand away, Murdoch sighed and said, "Perhaps."

George jumped out of his chair knocking it over, eliciting stares from some of the constables in the room. He grabbed Murdoch's forearms and said, "Come _on_, Will, you _must_ tell me what you saw!"

_Oh boy. Now what do I tell him? It's better if he doesn't know what's really out there._

Luckily for him, all the commotion had made Brackenreid take notice and he stuck his head out of his office and said in that too loud voice, "Oye! What's going on here?"

George let go of him. Wanting to deflect from his current dilemma, Murdoch jumped back to their previous conversation and said, "George here has discovered the killer."

"He has?" said the inspector doubtfully.

George stared at him confusedly and opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes, he believes that Miss Dennet is responsible for Amy's murder."

Both of the other men raised their eyebrows at that. George quickly lowered his when his boss turned to stare at him.

"Dennet?" said Brackenreid, chuckling. "That little school girl? Really, Crabtree? Was that the best you could come up with?"

Murdoch shared a look with George and he tried to tell the constable to follow his lead with no more than his eyes.

Apparently it worked because George said, "I know it's a bit hard to fathom, sir, but I assure you, she is the killer."

"All right," said the inspector crossing his arms, "I'll bite. Pray tell _why_ did Miss Dennet do it?"

George gulped and then Murdoch said, "Jealousy, Tom. Plain and simple."

"Jealousy over what?"

Murdoch was surprised when George answered. "Popularity, sir. Miss Dennet used to be the most popular girl until Amy came along."

The inspector was still looking quite skeptical. "Well, bring her in then Crabtree. Let's see what she has to say for herself." He gave George a bit of a menacing stare, "But if you're wrong and the girls parents start whining about the harassment of their precious jewel," the inspector poked George's chest, "I'll expect to see an expensive present in my bottom desk drawer."

Brackenreid smirked and then glanced at Murdoch too and went back into his office.

"Will..."

He raised a hand, "Don't worry, George, Dennet _is_ your killer. I'll tell you everything you need to know while we wait for her to be brought in."

* * *

Murdoch was planning on leaving town soon but first he needed to return Detective Fallon's badge. And so it was that he ended up leaving the man's house shortly after Dr. Ogden arrived.

When he reached the gate she smiled on the other side and said, "Mr. Murdoch, how nice to see you again."

"The same, doctor."

"I heard about the Dennet girl. I am quite shocked that she could have done it."

"Indeed. People are rarely what they appear to be."

She glanced at him curiously for a moment and then her face sunk. "I'm sorry that you were unable to catch Liza's killer." Dr. Ogden placed a hand over top his. It had been a long while since a woman had touched him in any capacity, completely due to his own devising, and as such he was a bit taken aback at the contact, especially since he was _enjoying_ it. "It must be terrible not having proper closure..."

_I doubt one can get more closure than I. Very few people get the opportunity to behead the monster responsible for a loved ones death._

"That's kind of you to say, but I assure you once more that I have made peace with what happened and moved on with my life."

Dr. Ogden looked up and gave him a timid smile, finally removing her hand.

Feeling like he had some time to spare now that the excitement was over he decided he would endeavour to talk to her a bit more, after being a bit rude the previous times.

"So you are to be married, eh?" he asked as he leaned against the stone wall beside the gate.

"Oh, yes," she said after a moments hesitation.

"I'm very happy for you." She glanced at her engagement ring and didn't respond. "By any chance have I met your betrothed?"

"My what?"

"Your betrothed. Have I met him?"

She smiled. "Doubtful. _I_ only met him about a year ago in Buffalo."

"Oh really? May I ask what you were doing there?"

"Well, I was offered a position at the Sick Kids Hospital. Darcy was already a doctor there. We got along famously and we soon began courting. It's wonderful finding someone who shares the same passion in life."

Murdoch was perplexed. "And you are back in Toronto because..."

"Ah," she said glancing away, "that is a bit of a long story. I wouldn't want to bore you. Besides which," she said holding up her black medicine bag, "if I don't get in there soon, Mrs. Fallon will be even more insufferable than usual. I really don't know what the detective ever saw in her."

Murdoch smirked at her remarks. He liked a woman who wasn't afraid to speak her mind.

"Oh!" she said and giggled afterwards. "Did I say that out loud? I'm simply mortified!"

_I'll bet you are._

"No worries, doctor, I will keep your secret. I wouldn't want to impede your ability to heal your patient." Smirking more, "Though he might be better off staying unconscious."

She stared at him for a second and then burst out laughing.

"My, my, Mr. Murdoch, who knew you were capable of being funny?"

They smiled at one another for slightly too long and he knew it was time to leave.

Straightening up he said, "Well, I should let you get to it then."

Opening the gate for her, she passed by him and this time he continued to follow her with his eyes as she ascended the stairs of the property. When she glanced back at him, he realized he had been staring at an inappropriate part of her anatomy and quickly got out of there, chastising himself for his stupidity and weakness.


	8. Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Though they had a confession from Arlene Dennet, they still had not been able to explain who had bled Amy. That question was answered the very next day when a distraught Mrs. Irvin came into the station house to inform them that Mr. Lane was the man responsible and that he had killed her son. When they searched his premises they discovered a large amount of blood in an ice box and all the tools necessary for such a thing. Needless to say, Mr. Lane was arrested for the harming of innocents.

Brackenreid interrogated him, trying to find out why the man had needed so much blood or what he had done with Daniel's body but he would not say a word to him, not even after some forceful persuasion.

"That's one tough bastard," he said to George who had been watching the proceedings. "The only reason why he'd continue to hold out on us is if that blood is very valuable to him."

"Or someone else."

The inspector stared at him for a bit. "I never did congratulate you on a job well done. There must be more brains in that noggin of yours than I gave you credit for."

It was funny how Brackenreid could always make a compliment sound like an insult. He had a real talent for it. George suspected this was because his boss didn't like to show his true feelings about anything or be perceived as a nancy.

"Faint praise, sir, but coming from you, I'll take it as the highest compliment."

The stockpile of blood had reawakened his imagination and George could only come up with one explanation for it, that of vampires!

So when the inspector left, he slipped into the interview room and told Mr. Lane, (real name Dr. Harwick) about his theory. The man simply stared at him while the blood from his cuts and bruises dripped into his eyes.

George sighed and went about the rest of his day, all the while trying to concoct scenarios in which vampires could be added to his adventure novel. Despite his best efforts, he didn't see how it was going to work. Cursed mummies, the Queen and a devastating bomb were plenty enough for one story. _Next time_, he thought, smirking to himself.

* * *

All the other lads had gone home but George stayed behind in order to put the finishing touches on his book. It was just him, the cell guard and Dr. Harwick (Dennet was allowed to stay at home until the trial because she was a minor and her attorneys had been very persuasive).

He leaned back in his chair and must have begun daydreaming because he awoke to a loud thumping sound. It had come from the cell block!

George jumped up (knocking his chair over again) and whipped out his baton as he rushed to the scene. When he got there, it was to find Constable Dickens slumped against a wall and the prisoner gone!

After checking the mans pulse to find that he was still breathing, he sprinted out the side door to try and reacquire Dr. Harwick. However, a few minutes of running around was all he needed to know that the criminal was long gone, along with his accomplice.

Gritting his teeth, he marched back into the precinct in order to call the inspector. It was after eleven at night, he would not be very happy to receive this call.

_Why is it always me?_

* * *

The news of Dr. Harwick's escape spread like wildfire, as did his proclivities for blood. The constabulary had searched the city all last night but had been unable to locate him. When they went to the coach house, thinking he might have gone back for his precious blood, it too was missing and there was no sign as to where it could have gotten to. Mrs. Irvin claimed to know nothing about it and with no leads to go on, the trail went cold very fast.

Murdoch would not get involved unless expressly asked to. And if he did, he knew that he would not really try to find any clues. All the vampires had cleared out of their den, going so far as to burn their beds. It was obvious who had broken Harwick out, and since they had a deal pending, it was not his place to interfere.

So with no other reason to stay in town any longer, he packed his bags, and headed to the train station. Ever since Liza's death, Murdoch did not like saying goodbyes. Besides, he didn't want to have to deal with all the fuss George was likely to make.

Malcolm was already waiting for him at the train station, sitting on a bench with his few possessions retrieved from the vampires den. Afterwards they had sent telegraphs to many of the other hunters of note within Canada, telling them that there was something important to discuss. The meeting place would be the usual one, that of Paxton's cabin in Montreal. The man himself had died some years ago but one of his apprentices had kept the place in fine condition and since it was isolated, there was little chance of drawing too much attention to themselves.

His pupil did not look up when he sat down beside him, depositing his things on the cold ground. They sat in silence simply staring straight ahead at the rows of trees lining the track. Murdoch noticed movement out of his peripheral vision and watched as a hawk descended rapidly on some unknown target. For most of his life, he had felt like that predator, always in the right, just doing what nature intended. His chat with Balthazar had made him change his perspective, ever so slightly. The almost crippling hatred towards the beasts seemed to have lessened and his heart was free to explore avenues long since forgotten. However, since there was no future in any potential romantic relationship he might enter, he quickly closed off the pleasant sensations and focused on reality.

"What's on your mind, Will?" asked Malcolm, who had apparently been watching him.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

"I'd say it's better than just _fine_. I haven't seen you smile like that since before Liza's death."

Glancing at Malcolm he said, "I was smiling?"

Malcolm chuckled. "You sure were old friend, but then that grumpy face of yours came back," he snapped, "quick as lightning."

"I am not grumpy," he said grumpily, crossing his arms against his chest. "Nor have I ever been grumpy."

His friend placed a hand on his shoulder. "Will, I know you've had a rough life and lost many people you cared about, but if there's someone out there that can make you smile, _genuinely_ smile again, you _have_ to go after her. You _have_ to risk it."

Murdoch turned on Malcolm, shrugging his hand off. "How can you say that?!" he snapped. "I have no right to make that call! It's too dangerous to be around me! And besides which, she is engaged! It's already over!"

"Engaged, Will, not married. There's a big difference there."

For a second he contemplated Malcolm's words, then he too shrugged them off. "She's better off without me. I refuse to put her, or anyone else at risk, ever again."

"But things are different now, Will, the vampires won't be coming after you anymore, not if they want to have any hope of reaching a truce with us. I hate the very idea but if it means you and others like you, hell even _me_, can have a chance at happiness again, we have to take it."

"And what if this whole thing is just some elaborate ploy designed to make us drop our guards so that when we least expect it, they will come and slaughter everyone!"

"Of course it's a possibility, but we can't _know _that for sure. Just like we can't know that we will live to see tomorrow or that the rain will start to fall at any given moment. But as long as we outnumber them a hundred to one, they aren't likely to try something so foolish." He smirked. "And you're forgetting a rather important detail, Will."

Murdoch glowered at him.

"The vampires would never kill all of us or they would ensure their own destruction. They could never stockpile an infinite amount of blood. They _need_ us to survive. That's the beauty of the parasitic relationship."

"Beauty is not the word I would use to describe our arrangement," he said sourly. "We gain nothing from their existence, only pain and suffering," he closed his eyes and softly said, "and death."

"Yes, nature played a cruel trick on us the day the vampire was created. But perhaps it was simply Her way of striking a balance."

Murdoch looked at him like he was insane.

"Every creature on the planet has a natural predator, _except_ for us. So perhaps the vampire was actually borne out of a necessity to stop us from becoming so complacent in our hierarchy. Maybe it was a means to prevent our total and utter domination of the world?"

"What you say is blasphemous. God created man to be on top. He gave us thought and free will to distinguish us from every other creature. There was never supposed to be another. I'd hardly call the vampire part of God's plan. They are abominations and nothing more."

"You've made up your mind already, haven't you? You never intended to accept Balthazar's deal. You only agreed to spread the word in order to get out of there alive."

"So what if I did? You of all people should be the last to complain."

Malcolm stared at him. "We don't need your say so. If enough of us decide to take the deal, you will be overridden."

"And what if I decide to continue to hunt them regardless?"

His friend sighed. "Then I'm afraid we will need to stop you."

"What does _that_ mean?"

Uncomfortably, "We would be forced to lock you up, until you saw reason."

"And if I never did?"

"Look, Will, I love you like a brother but you're being very stubborn right now and I see little point in discussing such theoretical instances any further. It's now clear to me why Balthazar had me present for your little chat. I think he knew you would be even less pliable than me given your history."

Murdoch glowered at Malcolm. "You just called 'it' a 'he'." Facing away from him, arms crossed once more, "I can see that I've already lost you."

Malcolm sighed once more and there was silence until the train arrived.


	9. Mistaken Notions

Passengers began to leave the train. This process was somewhat time consuming and forced Murdoch to wait impatiently, eager to get out of Toronto once and for all. While he waited, he drummed his fingers on the suitcase in his lap, becoming more and more agitated by the second. Though Malcolm was not flat out staring at him, he knew that his friend was aware of his disgruntled nature all the same.

His thoughts were festering pools of what nows and what ifs. What if he couldn't persuade the other hunters not to take the deal? And should he even try? Did he have the right to use his celebrity status to sway the masses to his way of thinking? What would he do with himself if this deal was passed and he was no longer allowed to hunt them? What then? Would he go back to the mess he once was after Liza's death, drinking himself into oblivion every night just to get some rest? Hating himself not only because he had been the reason for her death but also because he had turned into the person he had never wanted to be like; his father. Murdoch realized then that he had no idea whether Harry was still alive. Even after all this time he didn't care. And it was this lack of apathy that disturbed him more than any vampire ever could. What had happened to him? Wasn't he a compassionate man once upon a time? Or had he only imagined that? Was there still hope for a rebirth of his senses, of genuine feelings? Or was it too late for him?

This uncertainty in his future was whipping him into a frenzy that was manifesting itself physically in an ever rapid tapping of his fingers. They were now a blur and the force with which he was hitting his suitcase was making his fingertips sting. But he was unable and unwilling to stop, like a man possessed but trying to persuade himself otherwise.

Finally Malcolm had had enough. He bodily grabbed Murdoch's wrist and held it in place a few inches from the case.

"Let me go!" he snapped, trying to break his grip.

"No," said Malcolm calmly, holding fast. "You will do yourself an injury, Will."

"Let me go," he said darkly, making a fist with his free hand. "Or you will regret it."

"Tell me what else is troubling you first."

"Nothing! Everything is just fine! Now let me go!"

"You're a terrible liar when you're angry."

"Malcolm," he said closing his eyes, praying for a calm that would not come, "you have three seconds to let me go or so help me-"

"You'll what, Will? Give me a black eye? Two? Break some bones? Contrary to your belief, I'm _not_ the enemy here. I'm your friend- dare I say your best friend- and I'm on _your _side and always have been."

Glaring at him furiously, "If that were true you would not be so eager to take this deal."

"Being on the same side is _not _the same thing as agreeing with your every thought. I simply want what is best for you and I think this hunters lifestyle has finally taken its toll. You _need_ a change of pace or you will _never_ be able to shake your bitterness about the cards fate has dealt you."

_I tried that once, didn't I? And look what it got me? A dead fiance and a broken heart. _

Murdoch laughed without mirth. "You've got it all wrong, Malcolm. It's the exact opposite. If I stop hunting, _then_ I will be ruined. I will waste away the rest of my days as did Harry. It's the only thing I have left. The only thing I _want_ to have left."

"We both know that's not true. You're just afraid to open your heart up again, to _feel_. It's as simple as that."

Murdoch felt his eyes begin to water and he held back his emotion as best he could, though his eyes still glistened.

"If there's one thing I've learned in this messed up life of ours, it's that you can't _ever_ give up on love and the pursuit of happiness. You _always_ have to hope for a better tomorrow or it might never come."

The train conductor began calling for people to board. Malcolm released his grip on Murdoch.

"So the choice is yours, Will, you can either lay down and die or you can fight for the future you've always dreamed of having, the one you've wanted since you were a little boy."

"But how?" he half whispered after a time, eyes closed again.

Though he couldn't see it, Malcolm smiled gently. "All you have to do is believe in yourself again. The rest will come to you in time."

His friends words rang true and with them, the cessation of Murdoch's teary eyed slip. Abruptly he stood up and said, "In that case I must stay here."

Malcolm grinned and also standing up, patted him on the back. "You've made the right choice, Will." They stared at one another and then his friend gave him a lingering hug, and for once Murdoch was not reluctant to return it.

"You're a good friend," he said as they parted. "The very best,"- hanging his head- "and more than I deserve."

Malcolm sighed and shook his head. "That defeatist nature will get you nowhere. Just try to think more positively for once and I'm sure you'll start to feel better."

Murdoch nodded at that. "I'll do my best to keep that in mind."

"I don't need to go right this minute," Malcolm said, eyeing him closely. "I can stay a bit longer and get you back on your feet, emotionally."

"No, that's not necessary. I need to do this on my own. And the other hunters are already on their way. We can't_ both_ leave them in the lurch."

"All right then," Malcolm said, picking up his bags. "Well I guess this is goodbye. One of these days we'll have a pint of that godawful beer you cherish so much."

Murdoch was thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, Malcolm, I think my drinking days are behind me. I think they _have_ to be."

Malcolm smiled. "You've made another wise choice today, Will. If you keep this up, you will be dangerously close to becoming happy."

"Oh get out of here," he said, returning the smile.

"See you soon, Will," Malcolm said tipping his hat to him.

* * *

The train whistle rang loud and clear and billows of smoke gushed out of the smoke stack. The characteristic clickety clack got stronger as the train picked up speed. Malcolm waved to Murdoch from a side window and he waved back. He watched the train's progress for awhile before taking a deep breath and looking up at the brilliant blue sky once more. Some of his anxiety seemed to leak out of him and for a few seconds he felt almost normal. Picking up his bags, he turned around and saw a familiar looking derriere in the distance.

He hustled over to her, surprised at how rapidly she was moving away from him and since he didn't want to start running after her, instead called out. Apparently she hadn't heard him (even though others had turned their heads in his direction) so he was louder the second time. She stopped in her tracks this time and very slowly turned around to face him, as if she were reluctant to do it. He made it over there not long after.

"Mr. Murdoch," she said in what seemed to be that same reluctant manner, not looking at him directly, which was contrary to all of their previous encounters.

A bit baffled by her behaviour he nonetheless forged ahead, "What brings you to the train station?"

"Oh, I was just seeing Darcy off. He frequently goes on business trips to Buffalo."

"Ah, yes," he said nodding, "I was here for the same reason. I wanted to say goodbye to a friend of mine."

She hazarded a glance at him. "He's a _good_ friend, I take it?"

"Oh, yes," Murdoch said smiling fondly, "the very best. Malcolm and I have known each other a long time. We've been through a lot together."

"I see," she said staring anywhere but at him.

The awkward silence stretched on.

Puzzled by her silence and demeanour he said, "Doctor, may I ask what is troubling you?"

"What makes you think something is troubling me?"

Slightly exasperated, "To begin with, you've barely looked at me."

"I don't know what you mean," she said still not making eye contact.

"_Julia_," he said for the first time ever out of annoyance.

Her head whipped up so fast that he swore it should have come flying off. Of course he was glad that it didn't because he was beginning to take a liking to it.

After an intense second of eye contact, she finally said, "I'm happy for you, William. I'm glad that you were able to move on with someone you obviously care about deeply."

His brain could not compute this.

"_Who_ are you talking about?"

"There's no need for deception," she said softly, doing her best to hold his gaze. "I promise I won't tell anyone." Putting a hand to his forearm, "You need not fear the law."

Finally he understood what she was going on about. Once he did, he burst out in raucous laughter.

"William?"

The initial release was so unexpected and pleasant that he really _couldn't_ stop himself from laughing...it went on and on and on until his stomach ached and he was doubled over.

"Stop that," she muttered in an irritated manner. "This is no laughing matter."

"Actually it is," he said, catching his breath. He wiped his eyes and stood upright again. She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Malcolm is a dear old friend of mine. But we're not lovers, Julia. Never have been, never will be."

"But I saw you..." she said slowly, as if she couldn't believe this.

"Saw me what?"

"You hugged him...and before that you were holding hands for a_ very _long time."

"Julia, just how close were you viewing from?"

"Close enough," she said somewhat evasively.

"_Julia_."

"All right fine!" she exclaimed throwing her hands up in the air. "It wasn't close at all!"

_That's what I thought._

"Whatever you think you saw, you didn't. And frankly, I can't believe you thought that. I was engaged for crying out loud!"

She waved a hand. "Oh that doesn't mean anything these days." Looking at him again she said, "So you're really not a homosexual?"

Unbelieving that they were having this conversation he nonetheless responded, "I'm really not."

She smiled at that and he smiled back. Then she pointed to his bags and said, "Why didn't you go with Malcolm?"

"I had a change of heart."

They shared a look for a few seconds and his heart responded in kind.

Today will be a good day, he said to himself, smiling.

* * *

**I could be wrong but this may very well be the first time Murdoch has ever been accused of being gay. I saw the opportunity and I just had to take it. Hope you got a laugh or two out of it!**

**I suppose I could end the story here. If you want me to continue it, just say the word!**


	10. Misgivings

After Murdoch deposited his bags back at The Fairmont, he and Julia took a turn in the park. At first she was hesitant to take his arm but he convinced her that it would look even stranger if she didn't. The conversation was slow at first and he did his best to keep it focused on her. Within half an hour he had a pretty good idea about her life story so far. Julia had grown up rich with a bratty younger sister named Ruby, her mother had died young, she was somewhat estranged from her father, had been abroad several times. It took her years longer than expected to become a doctor because she had to fight just to become a student and once she had achieved this goal the only place that would hire her was the morgue. So when the head of the Children's Hospital, Dr. Falwell wooed her into coming to Buffalo to deal with living patients, she jumped at the opportunity, not knowing that she would meet her future fiance there.

"But you left. Why?"

Here she was a bit evasive. "It just didn't work out."

Murdoch stared at her till she sighed and continued, "A young boy died under unusual circumstances and I felt it my moral obligation as a doctor to investigate."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Dr. Falwell expressly told me not to."

"Sounds suspicious."

"Indeed. So I started the autopsy but he caught me red handed and promptly dismissed me. As you can imagine, Darcy was quite put out about the whole thing but he defended my honour and threatened to quit himself if I wasn't reinstated. Dr. Falwell couldn't afford to lose two of his best doctors at the same time so he relented and also confessed to his involvement in the whole sordid affair."

"He killed the boy?" Murdoch asked, arching eyebrows.

"It appeared that way for some time until I was permitted to do the blood work. Then we learned that something else entirely was going on. Someone had overdosed the boy on heroin!"

"How monstrous! Did you discover who committed such a heinous crime?"

"Unfortunately no. And to make matters worse, one of the nurses there was also murdered in the same fashion. Apparently she had been the killers secret mistress. It seemed likely that someone within the hospital was the murderer but there was no way to determine who."

"This is all very terrible, Julia, but none of this explains why you came back to Toronto."

"The scandal proved to be quite disastrous to the fundraising campaign which caused a significant drop in our budget. As such, the board of directors had to make cuts and since I was the instigator of the whole thing...they fired me again."

Frowning, "But none of that was your fault."

"Yes, well, it is what it is," she said sighing.

"I take it Darcy made good on his threat then?"

"Yes and no. He did quit but Dr. Falwell begged him to at least stay on in an advisory capacity."

"Which means?"

"Which means that Darcy frequently makes trips out to Buffalo in order to advise on puzzling medical conundrums."

"It seems to me that you would have been the better choice for such things."

"Perhaps but I am not allowed anywhere near the grounds any longer."

"I say good riddance. Who would want to work with a killer anyway? You're much safer here"..._with me._

Murdoch was quite shocked that he had thought that last bit. Never in his wildest imagination did he think he would ever believe such a thing to be true. But he did, or at least, was starting to.

"Perhaps," she said smiling slightly. "I certainly am _much_ fonder of Toronto than I ever was of Buffalo. Once you find where you're meant to be, it's hard to feel at home anywhere else. Wouldn't you agree, William?"

"I'm beginning to."

They eyed each other closely for a moment but then he looked ahead and said, "How did you get your position back at the morgue? Surely they would have found a replacement for you?"

"It was quite simple actually. The man they had hired was an Englishman who only took the position so that his wife could be closer to family. But Dr. Francis was miserable here and was delighted when I showed up in town again so that he could pack his bags and get back to the homeland."

"Not the best way to maintain marital accord."

"No, it is not."

"That reminds me Julia...you never did tell me when your wedding is to be."

"Quite soon. In a little under a month Darcy and I will become husband and wife."

So soon? He had hoped to have more time. Time to do what? Steal her away from a man she willing got engaged to and that she obviously holds in high esteem? Did he even have the right to attempt it when he wasn't even sure of his own feelings yet, when he didn't even know if she liked him in that way either? No, it was far too soon to start kicking that hornets nest so he let the matter lie for the time being.

"But enough about me," she said. "I want to hear everything there is to know about William Murdoch."

"There's not much to tell." Much that he _wanted_ to tell anyway. And he didn't want to have to lie about his entire life. Not with her. Not again. Not if there was a possibility of building a relationship here.

_But William, _said another part of his brain_, if Liza had known the truth, she never would have gotten involved with you. She would have thought you insane and run for the hills._

_ Yes_, he responded, _and she would still be alive today._

_You don't know that_, said the devil's advocate, _she might have died regardless. Maybe it was always her fate to die young, as did your mother. Maybe you're destined to be alone forever, as you deserve._

_Be quiet you scoundrel! Leave me be!_

"Don't be so modest," she said squeezing his biceps, bringing him back to the present. "I'm sure you are understating your achievements."

When he still didn't respond she continued with, "I've told you everything important there is to know about me."

_She's lying_, he thought, surprised. What could she be hiding? Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be worse than his secrets.

"You have to at least give me _something_ to go on."

"All right...I had a dog named Jasper growing up. He was a very well behaved dog. I wrote a rhyming couplet about him."

Julia caught his smirk and she chuckled. "Actually I was more interested in what you did before you came to Toronto. For all I know you were a thief or killed rats for a living."

That was surprisingly close to the truth. The life of a vampire hunter was not exactly a well paid one, so he had to make due the best he could. Sometimes he had been hired to kill the creatures but more times than not, no one knew of their existence. Usually he simply stole whatever money his victims had on them before he buried their bodies, but oftentimes he had to get a little more creative to make ends meet and pickpocket the occasional rich person. He reasoned that they weren't likely to miss whatever he happened to filch, though he had almost been caught more than a few times in the beginning when he was still rusty. The hypocrisy and irony of becoming a constable who apprehended his fair share of pickpockets was not lost on him. But such was the way of the world. Everything was two sided. Nothing was black and white. Balthazar's words rang loud and clear for a fraction of a second, disturbing him. Perhaps that is what prompted him to say the following.

"Not rats, Julia..." his heart hammered wildly in his chest, "vampires."

She chuckled again.

_Of course she would think I am joking, why wouldn't she?_

"George would be so proud. Seriously though, William," she said in a slightly whining voice, that he somehow found endearing, "what were you up to?"

_Confound it! What do I tell her? Even if I told her the truth now, she wouldn't believe it! But I refuse to lie!  
_

Murdoch gulped and she continued to gaze at him in an unflinching manner.

"After my Jesuit training I spent some time in the lumber yards of Montreal and then travelled the countryside for many years. My work kept me very busy and I met a lot of...interesting people along the way."

"So you were a lumberjack all this time?" she asked, appearing to be impressed but also skeptical. No doubt his rather pale, almost vampire-like complexion was somewhat suspicious.

"I never went anywhere without my axe. Still have it in fact."

There. He hadn't lied but he hadn't answered her question either. Would that be enough to appease her for now until he figured out how best to proceed?

She stared at him for a few moments longer and then glanced away. "Do you by any chance have the time, Mr. Murdoch?"

Back to formalities? That wasn't a good sign.

Pulling out his pocket watch he said, "It's a quarter to ten."

"Ah, it's later than I thought. I should really head into the morgue. There's no telling what bodies have shown up during my absence."

Her tone was light and cheery but he could tell that she was annoyed with his less than forthcoming nature after she had told him many details about herself...though not everything. If she had he would have been very disappointed. In his opinion, people who gave away too much information about themselves from the get-go were either fools or confidence tricksters. But that wasn't a very fair assessment because he had forced her to keep talking about herself and he doubted he could ever find her to be a fool, even if he tried. Right now_ he_ was feeling like one, but for completely separate reasons.

Murdoch released her arm. "I wouldn't want to get you into trouble...doctor."

She smiled briefly and left him standing there, rather agitated with himself for his sudden moral qualms.


	11. An Evening to Remember

Two days passed by in which he made very little progress with Julia, owing to the fact that not only did he really have no reason to see her (it wasn't as if they worked together) but that she had also become distrustful of a person who would not open up about basic things. The desire to start lying again was strong but he swore not to go down that road with her. And so his mind was continuously working on a way to fix the problem, with little success. For the most part he had been watching her without her knowledge, as he had with Liza before first approaching. Some would call this creepy and inappropriate behaviour but he had always lacked social graces except for when he was putting on a show in order to obtain information. Just a few days of observing her actions outside of the morgue had led Murdoch to believe that she was a kind hearted person who genuinely wanted the best for others. This quality was highly reminiscent of Liza and as such was a great recommendation.

On the third day since the incident at the train station, Darcy Garland returned. Murdoch 'accidentally' came across Darcy and Julia as they were taking a stroll. Murdoch found him to be an inscrutable sort and it instantly made him suspicious. But he quickly realized he was simply desirous of the man to have some glaringly obvious fault that he could exploit in some way in order to get rid of him. This was a strong indicator to Murdoch that he was indeed developing feelings for Julia and had become jealous of her fiance.

Darcy's last name amused Murdoch because many people would think to get a garlic garland for the purposes of fending off vampires. This was all thanks to Mr. Bram Stoker and his less than accurate account of vampires in _Dracula_. Out of curiousity and during the lengthy train ride here, he had read it, becoming increasingly annoyed the further he got. It was obvious to Murdoch that Stoker had never been within a hundred feet of one and had just made up a variety of silly things about them. Vampires _did_ have reflections, garlic did absolutely nothing to repel them, neither did crosses or holy water, they didn't need permission to enter someones home, nor could they turn into bats and fly away. They were however night walkers, the sun did burn them, they were quite fast, strong and resilient and they did indeed need to be beheaded in order to be completely destroyed. He could have lived with the silly aspects of the story if only Stoker hadn't romanticized the creatures, making them sound exotic and full of erotic tendencies. This had completely disgusted Murdoch and the mere thought of anyone actually wanting to be touched by one of them made him feel sick to his stomach. He had tossed the book out a train window half way to Toronto, hoping it was destroyed by mother nature soon enough.

So when he found another copy of it on Julia's desk, it was a great strain not to try and educate her on the matter or dispose of it in a similar manner as the copy he had 'borrowed'. He had the same problem every time he passed by a book store's display window. The urge to steal them all and burn them in a large pile was almost overwhelmingly strong but somehow he stopped himself.

The more he saw Julia and Darcy together, the more he wanted to head to the nearest pub. The situation was hopeless. They were happy and she didn't even want to talk to him. In his melancholy he forgot to shave and his beard scruff returned soon after.

Murdoch scratched at the stubble while he continued to follow them one night, as if he were incapable of leaving them alone. They had just attended the opera and were travelling by carriage towards Julia's place. In order to keep up but also stay out of sight, he had been using the rooftops, running across them, jumping from one to the other.

The carriage was going along at a good clip when two things happened quite suddenly. First a man being chased by another man, both moving very quickly almost collided into the side of the carriage. And secondly Murdoch ran out of rooftop almost falling to his death (or at least great injury).

At the last second he noticed his dilemma and grabbed onto a chimney, swinging himself around, over the nearly twenty foot drop and back onto the edge of the business building. In the time that this had taken, the two men had just about disappeared completely from sight and Murdoch knew what they had really been. Glad that he was carrying some weapons within the confines of his hunting attire, he immediately descended via the closest fire escape and took off in the direction that he had last seen them in. The chances that he would catch up on foot were slim to none so at the soonest opportunity he 'borrowed' someones bike and shot past the carriage, catching two laughing figures with his peripheral vision, frowning and then focusing all his attention on the task at hand, knowing that if he found the creatures, he would need all his wits about him.

After biking around for some time and coming up empty handed, he heard a terrible scream coming from somewhere nearby and he circled around to where he thought it had originated from. In an alleyway, he found a dark figure holding something in his hand. Murdoch realized it was a head and the mangled shape on the ground was the body. It was still spewing geysers of blood from the neck, coating the grimy wall. The 'living' vampire looked over at him with no trace of bloodlust in its eyes. In a bad mood over his failings with Julia and completely forgetting the pending deal, he whipped out his pistol and took aim. Before he could get a shot off, the vampire had hurtled the severed head at him and taken off. Murdoch narrowly dodged the projectile (getting mildly splashed with spinning blood droplets) but by doing so, let it end up in the street, in plain sight of any potential passersby.

If he went after the other vampire, he couldn't clean this mess up properly. However, he wouldn't get the chance to do either because a civilian had just turned the corner and would be able to see him and the head in mere moments. With no other choice than to leave it all behind, Murdoch jumped off the bike, letting it clatter to the ground and sprinted into the alleyway, not even bothering to spare the rest of the remains a second glance as he rushed past. Stowing his pistol, he launched himself up another fire escape and back onto the rooftops. As he reached his destination, he heard another terrible cry, no doubt solicited by the recent arrivals realization of the object in the street.

Murdoch peered over the edge from a different, more distant building, watching through binoculars as the man summoned two constables doing their nightly rounds. One of those ran off to get additional help.

How was he going to clean up this mess? And why was he burdened with something elses slaying?

Not long after Detective Fallon showed up, looking closer to the usual specimen that Murdoch recalled from years back. Apparently Julia's ministrations had proved adequate to heal him. Fallon made sure the area was cordoned off from the public as best as it could be, using several carriages to block their view. These sorts of gruesome displays never ceased to provide unwanted viewership and questions and it was just one of the reasons why he was glad he was not part of the constabulary any longer.

Julia made a brief appearance, still in her fineries from the evening. He revelled in this opportunity to observe her up close and personal, that is until she started doing her job. He watched with a measure of revulsion as she picked up the head and examined it with rapt fascination. He hated that such a sweet person was routinely exposed to such devilment and found himself wishing she had never become a coroner. A person so full of life as she should not be involved with despair and death all the time. At least he didn't think so.

Since the cause of death was quite obvious, she didn't stay long and was soon in the carriage with the body parts, on the way to the morgue. He took that as his cue to leave, fully intending to go back to his hotel room and try to get some rest. But after a few minutes of his rooftop travels, he changed course and instead went in the direction of the morgue. His reasoning was simple. The other vampire was still out there and if this mess had to do with Balthazar's cleansing program, it would surely have orders to leave no trace of the dead creature. Which meant that there was the very real possibility that Julia could be in danger!  
With that thought in mind, he traversed the oftentimes slippery rooftops as fast as he dared and made his way to her.

* * *

Julia was examining the unfortunate mans head on the way to the morgue when she realized something quite shocking. Judging by the savagery of the tearing, it appeared that someone had been strong enough to quite literally rip his head off with their bare hands! From what she understood, there had been a case earlier that year involving soldiers hyped up on methamphetamine's that gave a man enough strength to turn another mans head the complete opposite direction, like an owl, but this was miles beyond something like that!

Could another drug be at play here? Or was this something completely different?

She had the unsettling feeling that this death fell under the latter's category.

The carriage lurched for a second and the head fell threw her finger tips and rolled into the corner. She hunched over to pick it up, and was surprised at what she next discovered. The mans lip had curled, exposing his gum line. Above his regular teeth, there was a small slit. Curiousity getting the best of her, she poked the spot and ended up dropping the head all over again. A tooth had come pushing through. But not just any tooth, a fang!

Heart pumping wildly, she reached for it yet again and checked the other side of the mans gum line. The same slit could be found. She had little doubt as to what it concealed.

Julia tried to explain this discovery away, thinking this was all a trick, like the crazed wolf man from years ago who had used a fake biting contraption for killing his prey.

_Surgical enhancements?_

She had never heard of such a thing and had no idea what dentist in his right mind would do this to another human being.

No there was only one completely ludicrous explanation.

_Vampires!_

* * *

The more she examined the body, the more she came to the conclusion that she was right. His blood was unlike anything she had ever seen! Even in death, the cells appeared to be functioning as normal! Nervously she glanced behind her, back at the body and shivered. It was one thing to read about fictional creatures that liked to seduce women, but it was an entirely different one to come across proof in the real world!

_This can't be happening!_

Some silent movement caught her eye and she pivoted around to find a very pale slender man hovering over the body. He was holding the head in his hands, examining it.

"Excuse me, sir," she said tentatively, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, "but what-"

He looked over at her with a piercing stare and said, "I'm sorry for the intrusion, doctor, but I'm afraid I'm going to need Simon back."

Clearly this was the killer! Which meant that he was a...

"Vampire."

She hadn't meant to say it out loud but she did. He smirked at her and she reached for a nearby scalpel, as if this would really be sufficient to hurt the creature before her. Funnily enough, she would take Harland Orgill, (the sequential killer) a hundred times over than to have to deal with an undead monster capable of ripping a mans head off with its bare hands!

"There's no need to be afraid. I'm just here for him. However, I am going to need you to destroy that blood slid you are currently investigating."

Without a word she shakily retrieved it from under the illuminating light of the microscope, dropped it on the floor and stomped on it with the heel of her fancy evening shoes.

"Much obliged," said the vampire.

He then tucked the severed head under his arm and picked up the body with his free hand, as if it weighed no more than a bird.

"I apologize for ruining your evening. Goodnight, Dr. Ogden."

And before she even had a chance to say or do anything else, he had fled the scene with his victim!

_How on earth am I going to explain this? _she thought wearily_, _hand to her head._  
_

As if that wasn't enough excitement for one night, another man came barging into the morgue. He was far less graceful and quiet than the previous one and she doubted very much that he was another vampire.

When she got over her initial shock, she was startled to find none other than William Murdoch standing before her, garbed in some unusual grey attire that was spattered with blood, with a pistol in hand and a large axe slung over his back!

Their eyes met for a second and she become light headed. Luckily she was sitting down. "You weren't joking, were you?"

"Are you all right?" he asked concernedly, moving swiftly towards her.

"Never better," she muttered, passing out.

* * *

**Hmm, strangely enough Murdoch seems to have the same urges that I do every time I see the Twilight series. I'm not projecting at all.**

**Anyway, how stoked are y'all for tonight's ep?! I AM FREAKING OUT!**


	12. An Unexpected Arrival

Murdoch stopped her from falling out of her chair with some light pressure to her shoulder. Relieved that she was unharmed, he was able to patiently wait for her to regain consciousness. He took the time to take in all her lovely features unabashedly. The yellowish golden dress she wore was quite stunning on her figure, as was the intricate way in which her hair was done up. The lengths women went to all for the sake of appearance truly astounded him...not that he was complaining. But the real treat would forever be her face and he didn't think he could ever tire of looking at it. Everything just seemed to be in perfect harmony, even the few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. It was all part of the beauteous package that was so intrinsically _her_, that he couldn't imagine her looking any other way, even as she aged and those lines deepened. He stroked her face a few times and placed an errant strand of her luscious golden locks behind her ear.

Eventually her eyelids fluttered open and she looked confused. Then she noticed him there and grabbed his hand, squeezing it with surprising strength.

"Darn," she said softly. "I was hoping this was all just a horrific nightmare."

_It is_, he thought to himself.

She glanced at him and muttered, "I can't believe this! He's actually a vampire hunter!"

"Julia, are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be all right?" she said a bit shrilly. "I've just learned that vampires are _real_ and highly vicious creatures and yet are extremely polite and nonchalant about other vampires that they've killed in the most gruesome of manners for _God_ knows what reason and that _you_ of all people are actually a vampire hunter! No, William, there's nothing shocking about any of that! I'm positively peachy!"

She had begun to hyperventilate during this rapid effusion, so he said as soothingly as he could, "Deep breaths now. You need to calm down or you will lose consciousness again."

Julia did as he said and then put her head in her hands. "Oh God! How can any of this be happening? How can it be real?"

His heart broke a little to see her so out of sorts. He had hoped to spare her from ever learning the real truth about the world, as had been the case for his sister. But the damage was done and there was no way to undo it. Selfishly he was slightly happy that this had happened. Now he could be completely honest with her. Now he didn't have to hide. Now there was a chance for them.

"William," she said grabbing his hand again, "how ever will I explain this to the inspector?"

"Just tell him that someone stole the body after you went home for the night."

"Yes," she said nodding, "I suppose that will have to do. I can't very well tell him the truth, now can I?"

Trying to lighten the mood he said, "Well you could but he would likely have you thrown into the asylum."

Giving him a funny stare she replied, "I do feel as though I've gone mad. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea?"

"Hush now. There's no need for such talk. You're a strong woman, Julia. You'll be fine once you've had more time to process this discovery." After a pause. "Can you walk?"

Giving him a dazed face, he repeated the question and she nodded. "I think so."

"Let's get you home then. You've been through quite the ordeal."

Without further protest she allowed herself to be led out of the morgue and into a nearby police carriage. He sat out front in order to drive, forgetting that his attire was rather unusual and blood spattered, garnering several odd looks on their way to her house.

Murdoch hopped off the drivers seat and opened the door for her. She seemed to be a bit dazed again and he had to prompt her to get her to move. Julia took his hand and descended the single step. He led her to her front door and said, "Do you have a key on you?"

She patted herself down and said, "No, it appears I've misplaced my purse."

He couldn't recall seeing one on her person when she came to the crime scene. Most likely she forgot it in the carriage with her fiance. Thinking about Darcy made his stomach drop in a most disagreeable way so he stopped and instead reached into an inside pocket for his skeleton key.

"How did you-" she started to ask as he pushed the door open.

"Try to get some rest now, Julia. We can talk in the morning if you would like."

She took a step inside and turned around to face him, looking puzzled. "Wait a minute. How did you know where I lived?"

_Uh oh!_

"You told me before we left the morgue?" he said hastily. "Don't you remember?"

Even to his own ears this sounded rather lame.

Not surprisingly Julia frowned at that response. "No I didn't." Her eyes widened in realization. "Have you been stalking me, William Murdoch? Like one of your damned vampire friends?"

"Keep your voice down," he said, glancing behind them nervously. "And they are most definitely _not_ my friends."

"Answer the question!" she said even louder.

This was the most uncomfortable and embarrassed he had ever been in his life! It was like she had her finger on the trigger of a shotgun and he was the hapless fish in the barrel! But it was even worse than that because he felt completely exposed as if he had forgotten to put on his clothes!

"You wouldn't talk to me..." he mumbled, blushing.

Practically yelling, "So that gave you the right to follow me around without my knowledge or consent?!"

"I-"

Before he knew what was happening, she had slapped him hard and slammed the door in his face.

_So much for trying to be the hero_, he thought gloomily, back to his grumpy self. _Now she'll really never want to talk to me again!_

* * *

Since she refused to speak to him the next day, he wrote her a letter, attempting to apologize for his poor lack of judgement. If she had bothered to read it, she made no indication of this. Fighting the urge to follow her around some more, he found himself instead at the precinct after reading about a masked man who had robbed a bank earlier that day. The moniker the paper gave him was The Kissing Bandit, so named because he had kissed one of the women present before stealing the money.

"Bloody hell, Murdoch!" exclaimed Brackenreid. "I thought you left town ages ago!"

"I had a change of...plans."

"Well, it's a good thing! We need all the help we can get!" Holding up the paper the inspector said, "Besides this codswallop," he lowered his voice, "there's been a goddamned theft from the morgue!"

"The morgue, Tom? Someone stole a body? Who would do such a thing?"

"Don't be daft, Murdoch! Obviously whoever killed the poor bugger! I didn't personally see the damage but I heard it was quite-"

"Will," interrupted Detective Fallon, holding out his hand. Murdoch firmly took it. "I heard you came to see me while I was ill. You didn't have to risk it. I appreciate the thought."

"Don't mention it at all, Jimmy. So, have you made any headway on the case?"

"Which one?" Fallon asked, vaguely amused. "The missing body or the bandit?"

"The bandit."

"I'm surprised at you, Will, I would have thought the morbid case to be more to your liking. You were always an odd duck that way."

Murdoch shrugged. "What can I say, I've changed."

"Well, anyway, I have George and Henry interviewing witnesses as we speak. We'll see if that gets us anywhere."

"It bloody well better!" boomed Brackenreid. "If this hooligan makes us to look the fool one more time, heads will roll!"

Murdoch thought that to be a poor choice of phrasing, but said nothing.

"In the meantime," said Fallon, "why don't we catch up, Will? I'm almost certain I made a very poor conversationalist the last time we spoke."

_Oh great, now I get to lie some more. What did I tell Brackenreid again?_

He plastered a fake smile across his face and said, "I would like nothing more."

* * *

With the loss of the body and no additional ones from the bandit, Julia had little to do with herself. She had seen the letter on her desk but had not deigned to open it. Currently she was turning it over in her hands, deciding whether or not to simply throw it out. For the longest time she had been infatuated with the man, but he had been engaged to a lovely woman throughout their entire time together so she knew she never stood a chance to catch his eye. Now the tables had been turned and clearly if he was following her around, he must have a good reason for it.

But she was happy now, more happy than she had been in a long time and it was ages ago that she had had a crush on him. And with the new found knowledge of his strange profession and past, it seemed to put everything into perspective even more sharply. A person doesn't go through years of such terrors without becoming marred in some way. Though he appeared normal enough, she wondered just how fractured his psyche truly was. Why open up that can of worms if she didn't need to?

It was settled then, she would forget all about William Murdoch and get married to Darcy.

She tossed the letter into the garbage bin and opened up a favourite book of hers, _Wuthering Heights_. All this kissing bandit stuff had put her in the mood for some tempestuous romance.

Just when the story was getting good, a petite blonde haired woman carrying a large box made an appearance.

"Ruby?!" she exclaimed, putting the book down and standing up to greet her. "I wasn't expecting you for some time."

"Oh I know Jules," her sister replied, sharing an awkward, one armed hug. "But I simply had to see you try on this marvellous veil I picked out. It's all the rage in New York. I'm sure you'll look wonderful in it."

"I don't doubt it, Ruby, and I thank you for thinking of me...but I already have a veil."

"You do?" Ruby replied, apparently quite surprised. "The way father was talking, it sounded as though you had accomplished none of the bridal preparations yet."

"Well, father is wrong. I have already found my dress, trousseau and gloves. And I've determined the music and flower arrangements as well."

"You wouldn't be lying to your little sister, now would you?"

"Of course not! I am quite content to be married to Darcy. Why would I put off the arrangements to our union?"

"I will have to give father a swift kick in the trousers for misleading me so. I was in the middle of a most intriguing article on the gangs of New York. My editor will not be pleased for this unnecessary postponement."

"I'm terribly sorry, Ruby, but if it's any consolation...he need not know your visit was for naught."

"How deliciously deceptive, sister," she said with a smile. "But you're wrong. It won't be for naught. I am quite determined to help you with the rest of the preparations, however little that may be." Ruby glanced around the room. "By the looks of things, you're having a slow day." She linked arms with her. "Shall we?"


	13. At Last

"And earlier today a masked bandit went into that bank while I was attempting to make a rather sizeable withdrawal, fired a gun and kissed a girl, before fleeing with all my money."

"Oh my, Ruby!" exclaimed Julia, putting a hand to her sisters forearm, bringing them to a halt. "Are you all right?"

Ruby waved a hand. "Yes, yes, of course. I didn't tell you to seek comfort, Jules, I simply wanted to discuss the nerve of the bandit. Personally I found his brazen manners to be quite charming and refreshing."

"How can you say that? The man took liberties he was not entitled to!"

"Miss Rose didn't seem to mind," said Ruby looking at her gloved fingertips as if she had already grown bored of the conversation that _she_ had started. "And I dare say that you would have either."

"Ruby!" gasped Julia.

"What?" said Ruby innocently, glancing up again. "I saw what you were reading in the morgue. _Wuthering Heights__ and __Dracula_? Now really, Jules. A girl would tend to think you were romance starved and not about to get married."

Despite her best efforts she blushed. Then she shook this off and said defensively, "I assure you that you are quite mistaken. I was reading _Wuthering Heights_ because it is one of my favourite stories and as for _Dracula_..."

The thought of vampires and what she had witnessed and...William gave her pause.

"As for _Dracula_, I was simply reading it for...research."

"Research?" her sister said sounding amused. "Come now, Jules, you can't honestly expect me to believe that."

"Well it's the truth!" Julia sputtered, losing her patience. "We had a most troublesome case involving vampire theatrics and it was necessary for me to try to get into the mind set of the killer!"

Ruby appeared thoughtful for a moment. "A vampire alienist? Now that sounds like an intriguing story to write about. When do you expect to start down this career path?"

Julia was about to storm off on her sister when several policemen exited the bank in question and Ruby said, "Oh my! Who is that handsome devil with Constable Crabtree?"

Reluctantly Julia looked over and saw a scraggly faced William Murdoch headed down the street...in their direction.

"We should go," she said a little too urgently.

Ruby looked at her curiously. "Why, Jules? I want to speak with George and meet this ruggedly handsome stranger. As you know, I am quite drawn to the vagabonds seeing as I am one. Hmm, I wonder if _he's_ the bandit?"

Normally Julia would have laughed at such an absurd notion but with everything she knew about the man now, she wouldn't be surprised. The idea that William was going around kissing random women both annoyed and thrilled her. As a consequence she blushed again, just in time for the men to reach them.

William was trying to catch her eye but she gave her full attention to George. "Miss Ogden," he said removing his helmet, "you wouldn't by any chance have remembered some other details about the bandit?"

"I'm afraid not, George." Looking at William, Ruby said, "You've had no luck then identifying him?"

"He's a slippery customer to be sure. But we'll catch him soon enough."

"I don't doubt it. That bandit doesn't stand a chance against such a capable constable as yourself."

"Thank you miss," George said turning faintly pink behind the ears.

"Now, who are _you_?" Ruby said staring at William again. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure."

"William Murdoch," he said.

Ruby held out her hand and he hesitated a moment before taking it and kissing it.

Smiling warmly, "Charmed I'm sure. Tell me, William,"- Julia was utterly outraged at the boldness of using his Christian name only seconds after learning it- "what is your impression of the bandit?"

"How do you mean, Miss Ogden?" he asked looking confused.

"Please, call me, Ruby." Again Julia was fairly outraged. The nerve of this girl! "What do you make of his kissing people?"

Both Julia and William stole a glance at each other at the exact same moment, something George failed to notice but that Ruby did not.

"It's highly improper," was all he stammered out, glancing away from Julia.

Smirking Ruby said, "You and my sister seem to be of the same opinion. And what do you think, George?"

"He's a scoundrel all right."

"How disappointing. Am I the only romantic here?"

There was an awkward silence. "Well, we best be off," said George. "I don't dare dawdle on this case or the inspector will be sure to give me an ear full."

Both of the men tipped their hats to them and turned around to leave. Julia thought she was in the clear and took a deep breath but then Ruby called out, "Surely you don't need to go with him, William?"

Turning around he glanced at Julia who didn't avert her gaze fast enough and said, "What did you have in mind, Miss Ogden?"

"Ruby."

"Of course."

"It's after one. I was thinking lunch at a fancy French restaurant. With any luck it will be better than the fare in New York. The Americans aren't fond of the French I'm afraid."

William looked at her and she made herself hold his gaze. "Will you be dining with us, Julia?"

Julia couldn't find the words to respond.

"But of course she will," said Ruby, linking arms with her. "She has to for I have no money on me. It'll be her treat."

"Then how can I say no," he replied smiling.

"Wonderful!"

Ruby glanced at a somewhat upset George. She moved closer and whispered, "I promise I will make it up to you later, when you are less busy."

That made more than his ears turn pink and he looked a little dazed before leaving the party.

* * *

The waiter gave William a snooty once over and looked like he was about to say something when Ruby spoke up first. "He misplaced his razor. Table for three please."

After another few seconds the waiter fixated on her and said with a thick French accent, "Right zis way, mademoiselle."

Ruby ordered some wine, it was promptly poured and then it was just the three of them.

"So tell me, William, how do you know Jules?"

It was bad enough that her sister still called her that in private but to do so blatantly and carefree in public was more than she could bear. She gripped her glass tight and tried to calm herself down.

He raised his eyebrow at the childish nickname, "We used to work together."

"Indeed?" Ruby said surprised. "I'm sure I would have remembered Jules bringing up someone as _handsome_ as yourself." William choked on his water. "Why didn't you, sister?"

Julia felt the beginnings of a headache coming on but nevertheless took a large gulp of red wine to steady her nerves.

"It was a long time ago, I'm sure you have just forgotten."

"I doubt that. I have a very good recollection of details. It's why I'm so good at my job. Speaking of, what is your current profession, William?"

William looked at Ruby awkwardly. "I-"

"He's a private investigator," she said abruptly.

This was vaguely truthful at least.

"Oh really? What fun! You must catch people in all sorts of scandalous ways. What was the most shocking one you've ever encountered?"

"Well..."

"That information is privileged, Ruby. You of all people should know that."

The waiter came back for their food orders but none of them had looked at their menus except for Ruby. "Can you come back in a few minutes?"

The man scowled and left.

Ruby clasped her hands together and looked at William once more. She was always staring at him. It was most aggravating...and rude!

"Will you be attending Jules wedding?"

"Unfortunately not," he mumbled. "I will be leaving town soon."

Julia's heart lurched at the thought. He had stayed, presumably for her and now that she had rejected him he had little reason to be here any longer. But she had no wish to get to know him better so why was she so out of sorts?

Ruby seemed equally disappointed. "Are you quite sure? I had hoped you would be one of my escorts." Glancing at him far too intimately for her liking, and then placing a hand over top his she said, "I am a _very_ demanding woman, you see."

Julia clenched her free hand into a fist and put undue pressure on her wine glass. First she was shamelessly flirting with George and now she presumed to do the same with William? Why exactly did she need multiple men under her thrall at any one given time? Why was she such a spoiled brat?

William blushed at that comment and since his skin tone was quite pale, it was all the more apparent and embarrassing for the both of them. Ruby pretended not to notice but she did retrieve her hand from his and Julia was slightly less peeved.

Even so Julia couldn't help but say, "Ruby, may I have a word with you...in private?"

"Allow me to leave."

"Nonsense," said Ruby, "you haven't eaten yet."

William stood up and said, "I'm not hungry and I really should be getting back to the station. Good day."

"Good day," they responded almost simultaneously.

William left them alone and they both glared at each other.

"You didn't need to go scaring him off like that," Ruby said vexed. "We were just starting to get acquainted. I liked looking at him. He had kind eyes."

_That he did..._

"_Me _scare him off? _You _were the one being overly forward!"

"How? I simply asked him to be my escort. What is so wrong with that?"

Exasperatedly, "For starters, I thought you were interested in George Crabtree!"

The waiter walked over and kept on moving.

"I am. He's very amusing. But we haven't even begun to court. And I like to keep my options open."

"Well, I think that is very poor conduct on your part! You will just end up hurting him!"

"Why do I get the feeling that you are projecting your own feelings in this situation?"

"How did you come to _that_ brilliant conclusion?!"

"I saw the way you were looking at William when you thought no one else was looking. A woman dying to get married does not look at another man that way."

Taken aback, "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Jules, I am your sister and I only want the best for you, so be plain with me. Do you have feelings for William or not?"

Julia looked away and didn't respond.

"That's what I thought." After a little bit. "What do you intend to do about this?"

"There's nothing _to_ do. I am marrying Darcy."

"Fine, if that's what you want, then by all means, marry the man." Ruby stood up, "But I have no wish to be around such hypocrisy any longer."

Ruby left and the waiter came around again. "More wine, please."

* * *

After drinking far too much she took a carriage back to the morgue, fully intending to read the letter he had written her. Unfortunately, her assistant had cleared out the garbage and it was nowhere to be found!

_Of all the rotten luck..._

Suddenly she felt like crying so that is exactly what she did. This continued on for some time until she finally pulled herself together and tried to catch up on her paperwork. However the alcohol and previous disconcerting conversation would not allow her to focus, so she went to the station house instead and asked after William. The desk sergeant told her that he was likely back at the same bank as earlier that day since The Kissing Bandit had struck again.

_Twice in one day? Whatever for?_

In any case she travelled there and found the police investigating and William was standing off to the side, simply observing the scene. He noticed her approaching before he should have been able to and turned to greet her, fairly surprised.

"Julia?"

"What's happened here?"

"The bandit has apparently come back with the sole purpose of kissing the same woman."

If he could be that bold, why couldn't she? After all, she was no shrinking violet!

"Come with me," she said gripping his hand and taking him into a nearby alleyway.

They just stared at one another for some time. "What did the letter say?"

Awkwardly he recounted the words. Nevertheless they managed to stir something in her, like her favourite romantic poets. If she was going to make an informed decision, she had to know all the facts.

"Kiss me," she said bluntly, spurred forth by the alcohol still coursing through her veins.

"Excuse me?" he said, eyebrows practically dislocating.

"Oh for heavens sakes! Kiss me, William Murdoch!"

Without further ado he grabbed her towards him and brought her in for the kill. At least, that is what it felt like to her, like her soul was being ripped from her body, so intensely passionate was the kiss. It was unlike anything she had experienced thus far in her life and certainly it was leagues above the calibre of kisses that Darcy produced. She felt herself getting lost in their embrace and hoping that she never found her way back.


	14. Chemistry vs Medicine

Murdoch had enjoyed kissing Liza but it had never been on the same level as this! His senses exploded and he felt alive again in a way that he hadn't in a very long time.

When they parted he couldn't stop from grinning and neither could she and he pulled her in once more. However, shortly after this a voice called out, "Will, where are you?!"

Reluctantly he let her go. "I best be off before George finds us."

"Yes, that would be most awkward."

"After the days work is done, I will find you and we will talk."

She simply nodded and smiled again. He stared at her for a few more seconds, gave her another brief kiss and then left.

* * *

Julia anxiously awaited William's arrival that evening. The last time she had felt this nervous was when she had accepted Darcy's proposal. And now after that earth shattering kiss, well, she was seriously reconsidering that decision. But a successful relationship needed to be founded on more than just her bodies physical responses. There needed to be common ground of some sort and he was still virtually a stranger to her. She was hopeful that their talk would put an end to that.

The doorbell rang and she rushed to open it herself because she had sent the maid home early. Whipping it open she was about to say his name when her sister gave her a surprised look and she stopped herself just in time.

"My my, Jules, that was awfully quick. Where's Beatrice?"

"She's gone home for the night."

"Well anyway," Ruby said making her way in without being invited, "I just wanted to apologize for earlier today. You're a grown woman, Jules, you are fully capable of making your own decisions. It was wrong of me to state otherwise."

Julia couldn't remember the last time Ruby had apologized to her. Unfortunately, it was going to be very short lived.

"Thank you for saying that, Ruby...but you were right. I was simply in denial."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Smiling, "William and I kissed-"

"You certainly don't waste any time, sister!" said Ruby with a little chuckle. "I'm so happy for you! When will you inform Darcy of the change in plans?"

"I haven't made up my mind completely yet. I must first get to know William better. Which is why you need to leave. Now."

"But of course, Jules," she said with a wink. "I wouldn't want to disturb your...chat."

"Ruby..." Julia said, rolling her eyes.

"Good night dear sister," Ruby said hugging her briefly. "Have fun."

Julia returned to her chair and fidgeted some more. Finally there was another knock and she bolted out of it again. When she opened the door her smile faltered slightly and then returned in full measure.

"Darcy," she said slowly, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice, "I wasn't expecting you tonight."

He seemed out of sorts and for half a second she thought that he had found out about the kiss. But then she realized that was ridiculous.

"I know, Julia, but I needed someone to talk to. May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, please do," she said with a shake of her head. They sat down in the parlour across from one another. "What did you wish to talk about?"

Darcy sighed. "It's about Jonny. I've tried everything I can think of...but nothings working."

She reached out and touched his hand. "I'm so sorry, Darcy, I know how much you wanted to save him."

"It's not fair, Julia. He's just a boy! Just an eight year old boy! He should have his whole life ahead of him! It shouldn't be about to end!"

She squeezed his hand.

"All I ever wanted to do was save lives, to give people hope for a better future. But more times than not, it seems the opposite is the case."

"Yes," she said sadly, "it is, isn't it? But you can't focus on the negative aspects of being a doctor, Darcy, or they will consume you."

"I know, Julia, I do. It's just that sometimes I feel so useless, I can't stand it!" Darcy looked her in the eyes. "At least I did one thing right, I secured your hand in marriage."

Her stomach dropped at that comment and continued to drop as he smiled and said, "As long as I have you in my life, everything will be just fine."

He kissed her then and she was vividly reminded of her other kiss that day and how this one paled in comparison. Of course they weren't really comparable given the circumstances. But even when Darcy had mustered some passion, it still was not even in the same realm as the complete bliss she had experienced with William. Perhaps Darcy could be incredibly passionate but was simply waiting until after they were married to express himself fully? Somehow Julia doubted it. Darcy was a very intelligent, caring man but he was too wooden in the romance department, he lacked imagination. Which was somewhat surprising to her considering he had had several other relationships and he _was_ a doctor and should know a thing or two. Maybe the problem was not him but her? Maybe they just didn't have the right chemistry?

In any case, even if he had kissed her incredibly passionately right now, she wouldn't have noticed it above all the guilt she was currently experiencing.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Murdoch had shown up just seconds after Darcy and quickly made himself scarce, lest he should be spotted. The reason for his tardiness had not been case related but rather vampire related. Malcolm had returned to Toronto to fill him in on the particulars of the hunter summit. After a lot of back and forth, they had agreed to the truce. For how long this would be held was anyone's guess.

He had hoped Darcy's visit to be brief but it was almost an hour later before the man finally left. Murdoch's imagination ran wild with what they could possibly be doing in there. At one point he almost barged in on them, but somehow he managed to collect himself and return to impatiently waiting.

When the coast was clear Murdoch made his way over to her back door for the purposes of discretion and knocked. Julia responded, looking grim and his smile was instantly gone.

"What's the matter, Julia?"

"I'm not sure we should be doing this."

"Doing what? Talking?"

"You know what."

He gave her an imploring look. "Oh all right," she said a bit agitated, "come in then. Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you."

"Well, _I'm_ going to have something strong."

Murdoch frowned. When they had kissed, it had been obvious that she was somewhat intoxicated. How much did she drink in one day? Was this typical behaviour or were there extenuating circumstances? He was graciously going to go with the latter.

As she poured herself a drink she said, "Go ahead, talk."

"Julia, why do I get the feeling that you are mad at me?"

_You are the one who asked me to kiss you!_

She sighed. "I'm not...rather I'm frustrated with this situation." Julia took a sip of her amber liquid. "It's put me in a difficult place. If I choose you," his eyes flashed, - "I fear something bad may befall Darcy. He's not in the best place right now."

"He's a grown man, Julia, he can handle himself."

"You're probably right." She took another swig and sat down. Murdoch followed suit.

"So, I'm going to tell you some things about myself, about my past, about vampires. Some of it is rather unsettling and...depressing." Julia looked at him glumly. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation at another time?"

"No, William, I've waited long enough to get to know you better. You aren't getting out of it again. Besides, I doubt I will be able to get to sleep anyway."

"All right then," he said taking a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

Julia was slightly traumatized from his tale of woe. She had expected his life to be hard, but not _that_ hard. Though William had tried to underplay the most devastating parts, she knew that they had affected him deeply, that he was mentally scarred in some ways as she had feared.

_Aren't we all? It may not be mental on my part but I'm still scarred. I cannot tell him now. It's too soon for such a thing and he is clearly exhausted from reliving all of that._

"Are you sure you're all right, Julia? I can stay the night if you're afraid to be alone. I know that I was for some time after witnessing vampires first hand."

_Why didn't you offer this on the actual night I witnessed them? Oh that's right, I slapped you and slammed the door in your face. Another classic Ogden move._

"I'll be fine, William, but thank you for offering." Trying to lighten the mood a bit, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had ulterior motives to trying to spend the night."

"You know I wouldn't presume..." he muttered. "You're still engaged..."

_Don't remind me._

"Goodnight, William."

* * *

It took several more drinks before she finally drifted off to sleep and when she did she was plagued with nightmares of events he had described. Most notably was Liza's death. Julia had known the woman for over a year, albeit, not very well, but Liza _had_ been a tangible element for some part of her life. To find out that vampires had killed her was startling enough (though fairly obvious now that she thought about it); to learn that it had simply been an act of revenge was even worse! It was because of William's penchant for beheading the undead creatures that his fiance had been murdered! William assured her that there was a truce in effect and that she had nothing to fear. He even went so far as to swear he'd give up that lifestyle forever if she chose him. But if the mere aspect of association with the man could plant a target on someone's back (neck), what did that say about him?

* * *

Over the next few days she learned about the other aspects to William's character. Most of his manners were pleasing to her, in particular his love of protecting the innocent. But what she had a large problem with was their lack of common interests. She liked to read novels, he didn't really read at all, never really having the time or access to such frivolous things. He didn't know much about human anatomy or medicine in general unless it was directly related to vampires. He didn't seem to know much about _anything_ non-vampire related, except for things (mostly religious) he had learned in his Jesuit training two decades ago and some investigative techniques from his constable days. His only hobby involved tinkering with things in order to make more effective devices to aid in vampire destruction, such as his night vision goggles or spike traps. So he was intelligent, that much was certain, but she had already known that from years ago.

The real problem was that his vision of the world was so narrow minded that it was hard to maintain an interesting conversation with him for any significant amount of time. Julia was seriously wondering why Liza had agreed to marry him. What had she seen that Julia wasn't? Obviously he was very passionate...but surely Liza would have needed more than that? Liza had not known about his past the way that she was now acquainted with it, so the only conclusion Julia could come to was that William had been faking everything (or at least some major things) about himself! Now that she could see the man behind the mask, so to speak, could she really fall for him the same way?

* * *

Julia and Ruby were having tea together at a lovely little shop on the corner of Dundas and Bloor. The wallpaper was very flowery, as was the whole atmosphere of the place and it was a bit off putting to Julia. Though she enjoyed nature, she was still a bit of a tom boy at heart and the ambiance was a little silly to her, especially since so much of it was pink (a colour she rarely wore as it was hideous in her eyes). However, the tea was exceptional and this made up for her other qualms.

"What's got you in such a dour mood today, sister?"

"What makes you say that?" she asked glumly.

Ruby simply stared at her.

Julia sighed, stirring her tea absentmindedly. "It's William."

Ruby eyed her closely. "I don't understand this melancholy. You were so enamoured by the man only a few days ago. What has changed?"

"It's complicated." Julia sighed again. "Isn't there some way to combine two men together?"

_Darcy's love of medicine and William's passion?_

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that Jules..." she smirked, "not unless you are going to go the Frankenstein route."

Julia didn't laugh and it was Ruby's turn to sigh.

"Honestly, Jules, why won't you talk to me? Perhaps if you told me more about what was going on between you two, I could help you make a more informed decision."

_Why not indeed? It couldn't hurt matters._

"Well, what would you do if you found out that you shared very little in common with him except for...extreme passion?"

Ruby considered that a moment while she sipped her tea. "I would use him shamelessly and then move on."

Julia made a face.

"I'm sorry, Jules, I couldn't help myself. All right, let's see, I guess I would make damn sure that I wasn't overlooking certain aspects about him before I completely gave up on the prospect forever. Are you absolutely _sure_ that you have nothing in common with him on an intellectual basis?"

"He's quite intelligent. But that isn't the problem, Ruby. He just doesn't seem to know much about anything I am interested in. It makes for rather dull conversation. With Darcy, we can discuss our various cases over an entire dinner time. With William...it quickly becomes awkward."

"Hence your allusion to combining the two together. Get the best of both worlds, so to speak."

"Quite so."

"Well as I see it, you have to try a little harder, Jules. Otherwise you will regret it the rest of your life. Why don't you simply ask William to read some of the things you are interested in and see whether or not he can then hold up his side of the conversation? If he refuses to do this, you'll have your answer. If he still can't be interesting, you'll again have your answer. You can't lose."

Julia perked up immeasurably.

_ I can't believe I didn't think about that earlier! It seemed so obvious!_

"Thank you, Ruby!" she exclaimed abruptly standing up and leaving.


	15. Be Prepared!

**Sorry for the longer than usual wait guys. I just wasn't feeling the story I guess...  
**

* * *

Murdoch was more than willing to do what Julia asked. Why wouldn't he? He had noticed that their conversation hadn't been very affluent and it had worried him that she was losing interest in him. He had played a character of himself with Liza and she had drunk it up like it was the most delicious wine she had ever tasted. He had always felt fairly guilty about this but when people got to know the real him through chance encounters with vampires, they generally fled as fast as possible. Sometimes when he was being very honest with himself, he wondered if maybe he wasn't any more human than the creatures he used to hunt. After all, it takes a fairly hardened individual to behead children in their sleep, even if they _weren't_ really children. Murdoch was under the impression that he had once found this very difficult owing to the fact that he had always wanted some for himself before he became a hunter but it was so long ago that it was hard to know for sure. His memory was excellent when it came to facts and details but when it came to traumatic and emotionally intensified situations, it could sometimes be quite cloudy. Which was probably for the best.

In any case, Julia seemed to be thrilled when he agreed to read some select pieces of hers. Murdoch put everything aside and focused on this task wholeheartedly knowing that there was only about a week now before she was to be married. Time was running out to make a lasting impression, one that was strong enough to convince her to end things with Darcy. If their situations were reversed, he doubted quite a bit that he would simply give up his entire relationship for a relatively unknown element. Luckily she was not him.

So Murdoch spent the rest of the day reading and reading and reading some more, devouring book after book and medical journal after medical journal. In all his years of hunting he had forgotten just how much he enjoyed learning about anything and everything and wished he had never given it up so completely. By the end of that day he had consumed everything she had given him and more. He was like a man possessed, and couldn't stop himself from going to the library and practically tearing it apart. Needless to say the librarian was less than pleased at the mess he had made at closing time.

Since The Kissing Bandit case had been put to bed a short while ago, he knew that Julia was not particularly busy at the moment, unless of course there had been another murder already. Regardless, he headed down to the morgue in order to speak with her. She seemed glad to see him and was eager to discuss his opinions on the subject matter she had given him. Murdoch did his best to impress and indeed, she appeared pleasantly surprised by the change that had taken place in so short a time. If he wasn't much mistaken, he was holding up his end of the conversation and then some, especially when he started on new topics that she hadn't assigned him.

"I must say, William," she said, smiling broadly after hours of effortless conversation, "I had my doubts about you but well...I think we _do_ genuinely have something here."

He took her hand, also smiling. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, Julia. And I agree completely."

They stared at one another for awhile and then she broke eye and hand contact. "However, I am still a little concerned about the whole vampire situation."

He didn't want to lie to her. "Yes, it could become troublesome again someday...but not for me. As I told you before, if you choose me, I will give up that lifestyle forever. It's high time I retired anyway. I'm getting too old for that kind of...work."

Still uncertain, "But what if another vampire who holds a grudge against you-"

He raised a hand. "That is not likely to happen again."

She eyed him closely. "But it could?"

With difficulty he held her piercing stare. "Yes, it could...but there is much more chance of being struck by a carriage than there is of a vampire attacking you to get back at me."

"Lovely thought," she said smirking slightly.

"So..." he said, imploring, after some silence.

"Yes," she said, glancing away, "I will give you my decision by the end of tomorrow. I need time to clearly figure everything out in my head before I potentially take the next step..."

"But of course. I bid you adieu then," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. He turned around to leave and smiled to himself because her breath had hitched just from that simple contact.

* * *

After agonizing over the decision for the rest of the work day, she finally came to a concrete conclusion. Most undoubtedly she had known what she was planning to do right after her chat with William but she had needed to at least _pretend_ to debate the issue with herself, or her conscience would have eaten her alive at a later point and potentially ruined whatever she might have with him. Now it was time for the difficult part in all of this: telling Darcy.

She had intended to wait till after he had gone home for the day but found that she was so antsy about this that she couldn't. So instead she travelled to the sick kids hospital and approached him in his fairly spacious office. There was maybe an hour or so left of his work day. It was always so hard to tell with him as his schedule was not set in stone, just like hers.

"Julia," he said smiling upon her arrival, putting aside some papers, "what a pleasant surprise."

She did her best to return the smile but found that she couldn't.

"What's the matter, dear?" he asked, getting up and coming over to her and taking her hand. She felt none of the usual warmth that this usually elicited in her, not after William had...

Looking anywhere but at him she said, "We need to talk, Darcy."

His posture became more rigid so that she knew her tone had made things clear. Ever the gentleman he said, "Please, take a seat."

"All right."

They situated themselves on the green sofa and he waited for her to continue.

Julia took a deep breath to steady her nerves and her now racing heart. "I-I don't know how to tell you this, Darcy, so I will just come out and say it. I know this will probably come as a nasty shock but well..."

"Julia?"

"I'm afraid I can't go through with our union," she stammered. He was silent but his eyes had widened in disbelief. "Darcy, please say something."

"Why?" he said quietly, already so defeated it broke her heart.

She sighed and placed a hand over top his. "You're a lovely man, truly, but well...I've met someone else and-"

"Is it that Murdoch fellow?" he snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"H-how did you know?" she said taken aback.

"I saw the way you were looking at him when we met in the street. I didn't want to believe it. He was clearly a no good scoundrel and so far beneath you-"

It was her turn to snap. "William is a perfect gentleman!"

Darcy glared at her. "We'll see about that!" he exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing his coat and hat.

"Where are you going?!"

She was afraid he was going after William and would get himself physically hurt. After everything else, she didn't want that too.

Darcy would not respond and she chased after him, just short of having to lift up her skirts he was moving so rapidly. His secretary tried to ask what was going on as they passed by but neither one deigned to respond.

"Darcy, come back here!"

Deaf to her pleas and fast losing him, she finally did lift up her skirts just as they were crossing the ground floor and the admittance desk, to the shock of many parents patients and staff. Several women covered their children's eyes, staring daggers at her. She didn't care. All she cared about was catching up to her ex-fiance.

But it was too late. By the time she burst through the front doors, he had already hopped into a carriage and taken off.

_Damn skirts to hell_! she thought most unladylike to herself, while she struggled to catch her breath against the confines of her corset. Ladies weren't meant to run. _And damn society as well!_

And then quickly getting over herself, she hailed a driver and pursued him.

* * *

Murdoch had tried to focus on something, anything for the rest of that day but found that he could not. Until he knew what Julia's decision was, one way or the other, his mind would be a swirling abyss of emotions, continuously pulling him down, over and over again. He called Malcolm up in the hopes that his oldest friend might have better luck bringing him out of this torment.

They had agreed to meet at a restaurant for dinner and that was where he was heading right now. All of a sudden a carriage swerved nearby him and a tall, pale man (about the same skin tone as himself) came leaping out of it and towards him. At a second glance Murdoch recognized the man and prepared himself for what was about to come.

"Darcy," he said pleasantly enough, though his senses were on high alert.

The man tried to be as imposing as possible before he spoke. "I hear _you_ are to thank for the end of my engagement!"

Murdoch's heart beat quicker and he held back a smile._ I thought she said she wouldn't know until tomorrow night?_

"And you would like to do something about that, I take it?"

"You're damn straight I would! I demand the satisfaction of facing you in a duel!"

Murdoch simply raised an eyebrow at that. Before he could respond further, Julia had fast approached them from another abruptly stopped carriage.

Apparently she had heard that last bit for she said, "Darcy, no! You have no idea what you are doing! You aren't thinking clearly!"

"I know exactly what I am doing!" Darcy growled, face livid. "You can't court someone who is dead! Then you will have to reconsider our engagement! So," he boomed, "what will it be, sir? Will you act like a proper gentleman and accept?! Or will you hide behind her skirts like the coward you are?!"

Murdoch glanced at Julia and she said, "No! You can't, William!"

He saw the look of pure fear on her face and though he wanted to make her happy he had never backed down from a confrontation in his life and he wasn't about to start now.

Holding out his hand, he said, "I accept your request."

"Noo!" shrieked Julia, trying to break their hands apart. They both ignored her.

Darcy tried his best to crush his hand but did not succeed. "We shall duel on the morrow, at first light in the park!"

Darcy turned to leave but Murdoch stopped him. "And what will the weapon of choice be?"

"Pistols of course! Prepare yourself well, sir, for I shall give you no quarter! Mark my words, Murdoch!"

Then he stormed off leaving Murdoch to deal with a devastated Julia. "How could you?!" she yelled, sobbing, hitting him over and over again in the chest until he held her tight so that she was forced to stop.

"He would never have been satisfied until I accepted. This was the only way."

"So you will kill him for being a fool?!"

He released her slightly and said, "I promise I will do my very best not to."

"But then _you_ risk being killed _instead_!"

"Julia..."

She wrenched herself out of his grasp and stormed off too.

* * *

**Lol so I don't know how likely it is that Darcy would have the stones or inclination to challenge someone to a duel...or for that matter, if it was even a _legal_ thing by that point in time in Canada, but just go with it, okay? :)**


	16. Showdown

The sun had just reached the multicoloured treetops when Murdoch and his second, Malcolm, made their way into the autumn majesty of the park. The air was calm and peaceful; the complete opposite of his current inner turmoil. Murdoch had faced things that no man should ever have to face more times than was believable _and_ he had witnessed several of these so called gentleman's duels throughout his travels and therefore knew how they were supposed to operate, so naturally one would think he would be more than prepared for such a thing, and yet he wasn't_._ This was because he had never _participated_ in one himself. Having to follow several strict rules was the complete opposite to the usual types of battles he fought. And this made him nervous because in his mind, it almost made things more unpredictable since he had less control over the outcome. There was no need for ingenuity or trying to outfox the opponent, no need for sneak attacks or any other kind of deceptive manoeuvre. This was as straight laced and civilized as killing got, save for maybe hanging criminals.

"You can still back out," said Malcolm concernedly.

Murdoch didn't respond and just kept his eyes straight ahead, scanning for his opponent.

"No one would think less of you."

A similar hawk to the one he saw on the train tracks circled overhead. He wondered if that was a good or ominous sign.

"This whole business is completely archaic!" Malcolm grabbed his arm to stop him. "Surely you have more modern sensibilities, Will?!"

Murdoch sighed. "I know you are worried, Malcolm, but don't be. I will be fine."

They shared a look for a few moments and his friend scowled. "Would you like to try that again? Maybe this time you will be more convincing!"

"You know I am highly motivated to succeed."

"Don't you think that Darcy chap is just as, if not more so motivated? You've gone and stolen his bride!"

_Didn't you tell me too_? he thought to himself in an aggravated manner. _Isn't all of this really your fault? What did you expect was gong to happen?_

"He's going to do his very best to kill you! And you aren't willing to do the same! How do you expect to win?!"

"He's a doctor, Malcolm-"

"Precisely! So he knows exactly where to aim!"

"Malcolm..."

"For all you know he's a crack shot! Those American toffs love to spend their free time at the range, shooting tiny flying targets over and over again until they rarely miss!"

Murdoch hadn't thought of that but forced himself to push it out of his mind. His nerves were already rattled, he didn't need further distraction.

"I appreciate what you are trying to do, Malcolm, but please stop or else I will be forced to ask you to leave."

Completely incredulous, as if he had been slapped, his friend exclaimed,"But you _need_ a second present or they could both just shoot you as they please!"

"Exactly," he said placing his hands on his shoulders and sharing another gaze. "So calm yourself and be the reliable backup that I need."

"Oh all right," he said eventually, with a grimace. "But if this thing goes sideways, I _will_ kill both of them! So you better not die! I don't fancy being locked up again!"

_You would be hung_, he almost said but bit back the remark. Murdoch wasn't about to let his friend get himself into such trouble on his account.

"If the worst should happen, you have to promise me to let this go."

Again he looked like he had been slapped. "How can you ask that of me?! You are my friend and mentor! I-"

"You will follow the rules of the engagement like I ask and leave it at that."

"Fine!" Malcolm snapped, storming ahead of him. Murdoch sighed and took off after him. Just as he caught up, they rounded a bend and located their rivals in the distance. There was a third man present as well and for a moment Murdoch reached for his gun but then saw the big black bag in his hand. Most likely he was simply the doctor. Murdoch was hoping his services would not need to be employed, or at least not in a grave capacity.

When they too noticed them, their postures stiffened to attention and turned to face them. As they approached the somewhat secluded area, Murdoch continued to scan around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Apparently he was just paranoid that Darcy was going to play a dirty trick on him because there was nothing amiss.

Several paces away they stopped and Darcy spoke first.

"You're late, Murdoch," he said with a sneer.

"Actually I believe I'm right on time. You were simply early."

They observed each other coldly for some time.

"Allow me to introduce my brother, Leslie Garland."

Murdoch's eyes snapped to a much younger brown haired man. If _man_ was the correct term. He didn't appear to be more than twenty! Murdoch thought it highly irresponsible to allow Leslie as his second but he didn't say anything. The young man was simply smirking at him, with brightly shining eyes as if he thought this was going to be a gay old time.

"He was to be my best man at the wedding. So you can see how he would be eager to participate in this affair."

They shook hands briefly, and unlike his brother the previous night, Leslie did not attempt to squash his fingers and continued to observe everything with amusement.

"This is _my_ second, Malcolm Reynolds."

Darcy didn't deign to hold out his hand. "And this is Jefferson, a physician friend of mine who will oversee the proceedings."

They nodded politely to the middle aged man. He appeared to be very nervous about the position he had been put in but was staying quiet.

"Well, now that that's over. Shall we get started?"

_Eager are we? _

That combined with Leslie's smug attitude was making him very uncomfortable. He was sure that he was missing something and there was a third party who would jump out at any moment and gun them down.

Murdoch pulled out his pistol and the Garlands stiffened in response.

"I suppose you'll want to examine my weapon and make sure it's functioning properly. You wouldn't want to win on a technicality, now would you?"

Darcy retrieved his gun as well and held it out for Murdoch to inspect. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Malcolm and Leslie eyed each other with interest, both of their hands never too far from their holsters.

"Everything appears to be in order," he said, handing it back to him.

"Indeed," was the only reply.

Murdoch might have tried to reason with the man but knew it would be as fruitless as Malcolm's conversation with him. This was going to happen one way or the other. Better to get it over with sooner than later before his nerves really got the best of him.

"The rules are as follows," said Leslie, "you will shake hands in a sporting manner. Then you will turn around and walk ten paces, guns still holstered. You will turn around to face your opponent, as is only fair. When I give the signal-"

"And why exactly should that rather large responsibility be placed on _your_ shoulders?" asked Malcolm a bit heatedly.

Leslie gave him a bemused look. "What do you suggest we do instead?"

"We could do a coin toss to determine who gets to signal them."

This was going to turn into a headache so Murdoch interjected.

"Why don't you _both_ count down from five?"

"That's fine with me," Leslie said immediately, Malcolm eventually agreeing.

"Remember gentleman," continued Leslie, "this is a sacred event. No cheating will be tolerated. Anyone who does so will automatically forfeit his hand."

"And also remember," added the doctor, cautiously with a glance towards Darcy, "that this...challenge isn't necessarily meant for the purposes of killing one another. If one is wounded and can no longer stand on his own two feet, that should be the end of it. We are not here to butcher one another. This is purely a matter of honour. Do we agree on that?"

Murdoch nodded and after some time so did Darcy, their eyes never leaving one another. But that did little to instill a sense of courage in his heart. The utter outrage of last night may no longer be visible but it was still there, just bubbling beneath the surface. Darcy was going to do whatever the hell he wanted and damn the consequences. Murdoch was almost certain that he would turn around and shoot early, the greatest sin one could commit in such affairs. Still, even with this assertion firmly lodged in his brain, Murdoch would not aim to kill.

They shook hands and once more the man tried to crush his but he wouldn't let him. They turned on their heels and after ten long strides he stopped and pivoted around to view his quarry, surprised but relieved that Darcy had decided against shooting him in the back.

The hatred was now more apparent across his face, but so too was the sheer fear of this situation. In just a few seconds, one or both of them could be dead. Murdoch took deep breaths to calm himself and steady his nerves, otherwise he had no hope of hitting him where he wanted to.

Leslie and Malcolm began the countdown and despite his best efforts his heart rate skyrocketed. Nevertheless his hand remained still and hovered over his holster, eyes never wavering from Darcy's for a second. You could always tell when a man was going to go for his gun through his eyes. There was a flash of something that gave it away, if you knew were to look. The distance between them made this feat more difficult but still manageable. If there was any indication that Darcy would pull early, so would he.

There were three seconds left and the whole world evaporated around him. He was unaware of all else, and all sound, save for the countdown; not even the rapid beating of his heart was heard any longer. The only thing his highly selective senses picked up on was the determined man in front of him.

With one second to go, Murdoch saw the man's nerve crack and he went for his gun early. Murdoch had his own pistol half way out of the holster when he felt a blinding pain in the back of his skull and he crumpled to the ground. Fighting to stay conscious, he looked out across the grass and saw Darcy too had been knocked over. A pair of familiar looking shoes kicked Murdoch's pistol away and roughly picked him up, turning him around in the process. A quickly fading ginger haired man gave him an angry look and shouted something at him. The sound came as though from very far away and was hard to follow.

"Murdoch, you idiot! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Tom?" he said thickly, barely able to hear his own voice above the pounding in his head.

He cocked his head to the side and saw two women fast approaching, caught Julia's concerned yet jubilant expression for a fraction of a second and knew no more, allowing the darkness to finally swallow him up.


	17. Aftermath

The world was blissfully silent until it wasn't. Jarring sounds assailed his ears. Angry voices mostly but there was another coming through more directly. It took him a moment to realize it was the pounding in his own skull. Murdoch tried to move his right arm to put a hand to the unpleasant pressure but was unable to. Confused, he snapped open his eyes much faster than he should have, the light sending fresh pangs across his cranium, and determined that he was still on the ground, lying on his side, on his right side. Without thinking he rolled onto his back, nearly crying out when the bump on his skull made contact.

Someone was nearby and helping him to his feet. At first he thought it was Julia but then noticed the hands were far too large and rough. In fact, there was a familiar J-shaped scar between the index and middle finger.

"Malcolm," he slurred, feeling as though he was drunk.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Malcolm's voice was light but somewhat strained. Clearly his friend was still coming to terms with almost losing him. Murdoch didn't know what to say to make up for his foolishness, letting someone as unstable as Darcy to call the shots.

Malcolm held most of his weight aloft, with a hand to his lower back and Murdoch's arm slung across his friend's broad, powerful shoulders. They pivoted towards the noise and he took in the source of all the racket. George was attempting to take a barely conscious Darcy away but Leslie wasn't having any of it. All of the gleefulness was gone from his expression, exposing a fearsome predator within. Thomas didn't look much less intimidating. With difficulty he focused on what they were saying.

"...arrest my brother, you have to arrest the other one as well!"

"You better not be telling me what to do, son!" bellowed Thomas, jabbing him in the chest with his cane. "I have half a mind to arrest you too! Or better yet, beat some respect into you!"

"Go on then! I dare you! We'll see what my lawyers have to say about that! They don't take kindly to police brutality! You'll be lucky to keep your job when they're through with you!"

"Are you threatening me, sunshine? Because if you are-"

"Enough already!" shrieked Julia, piercing his brain anew, sending a fresh wave of agony, making him momentarily close his eyes. "I think you've both proven how _manly_ you are! Further demonstration is unwarranted! Isn't that the whole reason we are in this mess!?" She strode in between them. Now that she had their attention she spoke in a more professional manner. "I hate to say it, inspector, but Leslie is right. If you charge one of them, you have to charge all of them. And frankly," she said, with a sharp look in Murdoch's direction, "I think you should. With any luck, the time in the holding cells will force some _much_ needed perspective. In the meantime..."

Julia walked up to Darcy and slapped him across the face and he cried out in pain and surprise and slumped against George's body. The constable struggled to keep the larger man's weight from toppling both of them. Of all people, Ruby came to his aid. Before Murdoch could enjoy the sight too much she approached him rapidly and did the same. Once more his skull exploded into a thousand pieces and he nearly passed out again.

"I begged you not to do this and you still did!" she said thickly, clearly holding back the tears. "I-I can't even stand the sight of you right now! Please take them away, inspector!"

"Bloody hell," said Thomas chuckling a little. "Nothing like a woman scorned. Well you heard her lads, gather up the lot of them!"

"Dammit," cursed Malcolm under his breath. "I was hoping to avoid being caged again. Seems to be all I'm doing lately." He sighed. "Oh well, let's get this over with."

As soon as they were settled in the police transport carriage, he allowed himself to fall unconscious.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, The Garlands were released much faster than Murdoch and Malcolm. This was mainly due to the fact that they actually had lawyers, and very good ones at that. The hunters had never had any reason for the services of the justice system. They had always worked outside the law as best they could. Needless to say, a lot of what they did was rather morally questionable, from an outsiders perspective at any rate.

So here Murdoch was, sitting on the only bed between the two of them, elbows propped on his knees, head in hands, moping.

"Why so glum, Will?" asked Malcolm, who was leaning against the far side of the cell as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Murdoch simply continued to stare at the floor.

"Oh, don't worry. She'll forgive you...eventually."

"You don't know that."

"If she didn't care about you still, she wouldn't have given you the licking that she did."

Finally he looked up a bit. "That makes no sense, whatsoever."

Malcolm grinned. "Sure it does. She was trying to smack some sense into you. Words clearly weren't very effective."

Murdoch grumbled as his head throbbed dully.

Malcolm examined his fingernails. "I can see why you like her. Reminds me of Liza. Quite the pistol. Lots of energy and spunk."

"Was it really necessary to bring up my dead fiance?" he asked annoyed.

His friend shrugged and smirked at him, irritating him further.

Sitting up straight he said, "And what exactly is so funny about that question?" He gestured around him. "Or this situation for that matter!"

"Don't you see, Will?" said Malcolm in a know it all way that had Murdoch clenching his fists tight. "You're finally back to your old self. You've finally moved on. You're just a few steps away from your happy ending. You should be ecstatic right now."

I should have left you in that vampire's den, he thought rather uncharitably.

When Malcolm gave him a funny look, he realized he had accidentally said this out loud too.

"Malcolm, I-"

Laughter came out fast and strong and Murdoch couldn't help but be swept up in it.

* * *

Thomas released them the next morning, first giving them a harsh talking to. If they were foolish enough to try something like this again and survive it, he would murder them himself. There would be no mercy.

"Message received loud and clear, inspector!" chimed Malcolm upon the end of the speech, saluting him.

Murdoch wanted to strangle him. Thomas grunted and left the room.

"Well, now," Malcolm said with a hand to his shoulder, "I think you have some grovelling to do. Don't worry about me. I'm sure I can find something or...someone to entertain myself with."

Rolling his eyes, they parted and went their separate ways. The closer he got to the morgue, the more apprehensive he became. What if Malcolm was wrong? What if she really didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore?

When he entered, she was deep in conversation with her sister, Ruby. They seemed almost conspiratorial in their manners and near whispers. Naturally he assumed it was about him.

Ruby looked up first upon his arrival, giving him a warm reception with just a simple smile.

"Mr. Murdoch. That was quite the show you put on for us. I was thoroughly entertained. Would have preferred to have better seating though."

"I'm sorry you were disappointed, Miss Ogden," he said trying to keep this as light and airy as possible.

"Yes, well, what's done is done." Giving him a close look. "I do hope you won't try to reprise your role again. What with vampires and bandits, I dare say Toronto has had it's fill of excitement for awhile. Best not to overstimulate the masses or they become rather unruly. Which reminds me of a story I did in India-"

"_Ruby_."

"Ah, but that is a story for another time. Until we meet again, Mr. Murdoch," she said holding out her hand.

He took it but didn't press his lips against her skin.

Once they were alone, Julia busied herself with paperwork, pretending as if he wasn't there, as if she hadn't just stopped a tedious conversation on his behalf.

Murdoch cleared his throat. "Julia-"

"I know what you're going to say, William, so save it."

He had intended to be calm and collected but her utter dismal of him rubbed him the wrong way. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was looking for a fight.

Fairly sternly, "You're not being very fair you know. No one forced you to kiss me. No one forced you to end things with Darcy."

"True," she said, turning a page in a folder. "But no one forced you to accept his challenge. It was utterly idiotic and reprehensible."

"So that's it then?" he said hotly. "I make a mistake _once_ and now you're done with me?" Julia started to scratch some illegible writing onto the paper. "Good to know!" he exploded. Her hand stopped moving. "At least I won't waste anymore time on such an unforgiving person!"

He turned around and half stormed out of the morgue before she called out to him. She was right behind him now but he didn't feel like facing her.

"You have to understand," she said quietly, touching his hand lightly. "I thought I was going to lose you. I nearly watched you die." Her voice cracked. "I- I couldn't bear it. I had only just found you. And the fact that you _willingly_ put yourself in that situation...how did you expect that would make me feel?"

Murdoch sighed and pivoted towards her, taking her hand. "I promise I'll never do anything like that again. You have my word. But if Darcy shows up at my hotel room, looking for blood..."

"Then you have my complete approval to defend yourself."

"How gracious of you," he said a little coldly, dropping her hand.

"Let's not start fighting again," she said wearily.

"Yes, I suppose there's been enough of that going around lately." He gestured to her desk. "Well, you're busy. I'll let you get back to it."

"Actually, I was just pretending," she said a little sheepishly. "There hasn't been any murders since The Kissing Bandit case."

"Is that so?" he said, smiling ever so slightly. "So we're all alone with nothing to do?"

"Indeed," she said returning the sliver of a grin. "Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"

They shared a look for several moments and most of his left over anger melted away. It dawned on him then that they had really only kissed that one time in the alleyway. She seemed to be thinking along the same lines. They leaned in and-

"Doctor!" came George's voice like a foghorn as he barged into the room, not ten feet from them.

They quickly parted and she looked over to give the constable her full attention, with only a trace of annoyance across her face.

"Yes, George? What is it?"

"A bodies been found in Markham! You're needed immediately!"

"Markham?" she asked quizzically. "Why would they need me all the way out there?"

"Because! A man was drained of his blood! Dr. Harwick can't be far behind!"

Julia's head whipped towards his. Under her breath she whispered, "I thought you said..."

Murdoch shook his head, frowning, practically seething below the surface. This was supposed to be over with! The ancients had promised! Could he never escape this miserable life after all?

* * *

**Sorry guys! I can't help being a tease!**


	18. Disobeying Orders

Murdoch prepared to follow them out of the morgue but Julia turned around and put a hand to his chest.

"You're not coming," she said lowly, so that George could not hear. The young constable waited impatiently nearby.

_Like hell I'm not!_

"Julia-"

"You promised if I chose you, you would be done with that life forever."

This was true but now circumstances had changed.

"You can't expect me to stay put doing nothing when your life could be at risk! You certainly didn't!"

"This is different," she said frowning.

Murdoch looked at her pointedly. "Is it, Julia?"

He thought he had won but then she countered with, "Your friend Malcolm can come along instead. I should be quite safe with him by my side."

_More likely lurking in the shadows._

Malcolm was definitely capable of handling himself. Except he had gotten trapped not long ago.

"And how will that look? Why would I stay behind when I just duelled for your hand?" Julia didn't seem very impressed with those queries and getting a bit desperate he added, "Besides, I helped on this very case! They are going to want me to come!"

Before she could respond he directed his next comment towards George, raising his voice to a normal level. "I take it your summons was directed towards me as well, George."

The constable appeared uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, looking away. "Actually Will, the inspector doesn't want you involved with this case."

"And why not?" he almost yelled but restrained himself at the last second.

"You were just in jail, William," said Julia, smugly. "How would _that_ look?"

He glared at her.

"I'm sorry, Will, but she's right."

Murdoch screamed loudly in his head, teeth grinding together, body rigid in fury. If anything happened to Julia he would never forgive himself. The fact that the universe was conspiring against them, that _she_ was party to their destruction, didn't help matters. In his current turmoil, the irony of their paralleled situations was completely lost on him.

In some ways he longed for the days when he was numb to everything, like when Liza had died. It was almost easier to deal with a vast nothingness than feeling too much. An idea came to him then and using a will of iron, controlled his rampant emotions.

"Well, then," he said taking her hand and squeezing it, possibly a little too hard, "just promise me you'll be careful."

She gave him a suspicious stare as he kissed her hand. It was unlike him to relinquish power so easily.

"Don't worry, Will," said George, "the detective and I will keep her safe from that lunatic. You have my word."

"Thank you, George," he said with a forced smile.

With one last glance she moved away from him and followed George out. Murdoch grabbed his hat and left straight after, heading towards Malcolm's hotel before he remembered that his friend wouldn't be there. Murdoch discreetly asked around and discovered the location of the nearest bordello, _Fancy Feast_, which supposedly catered to distinguished gentlemen's culinary appetites and nothing else. City folk were always prone to these glaringly obvious deceptions, as if the police couldn't see right through their disguises. Likely a number of them frequented this establishment. Normally this would have amused Murdoch but right now such a thing was not possible.

He gained entrance into the building easily enough where a few men of vastly didn't age groups were lounging around with some young women. Finding Malcolm was another story. Only paying customers were allowed into the back rooms but you could only gain admittance after being vetted through another client, who had to be a regular.

"That's a bit of a problem. My friend is already back there."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll need to wait until he is finished. We don't disturb customers while they are being entertained."

"But this is an emergency!"

The girl viewed him sardonically. "My you're an eager one."

"It's not like that!" he yelled. "I just need to speak with him!"

Several of the previously laughing patrons stopped what they were doing and viewed him with interest.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from that tone of voice."

Before he could respond the phone rang and while the 'hostess' was distracted he slipped in anyway, easily knocking out the unprepared protection just inside the door. Not wasting any time he barged into the nearest room, badly startling a naked young man and two women and before their yells of outrage could really reach his ears he had slammed the door shut and continued down the hall. At the fourth door he hit pay dirt and his friend aghast at this intrusion into such an intimate affair, threw a punch that didn't land before he realized who it was. The pretty young thing that Malcolm had been with shrunk behind the covers and simply watched as Murdoch strong armed him out of the room.

"The vampires have broken the deal."

All of Malcolm's indignation dissipated immediately to be replaced by utter annoyance instead. Murdoch tried to tug him further out of the bordello but Malcolm resisted. "At least give me the chance to put some trousers on, Will!"

"Hurry up," he grunted.

Before they managed to exit the premises, two burly men spotted them and moved swiftly towards them, guns aloft. Murdoch and Malcolm shared a look and ran the opposite direction, out the back door and into an unmanned carriage.

* * *

Markham was over eighteen miles away so they had three feasible transportation options before them. Carry on in this carriage, try to get a train, or bike. Since they were taking a fair amount of supplies and weapons with them, biking was out of the question, even though it would have been the fastest option. As for the train, they had just missed the most recent one, the one that Julia and the others had no doubt been on. So they were stuck with using this stolen carriage and horse that was not very motivated to move quickly, no matter how hard he enticed it. After a few miles Murdoch was fed up enough to steal a different carriage with two horses and they continued on at a much faster pace the rest of the way.

By the time they reached their destination, it was early afternoon, meaning they only had a few hours to locate the errant vampires and take them out before sunset. With any luck they would succeed, or even better, Julia would finish long before then and head back to Toronto before she even had a chance to be in danger. But by the looks of things through his binoculars, she wasn't planning on leaving until the others were. And it appeared that Detective Fallon and George were intent on questioning everyone here.

Without further ado the hunters got down to business, taking a selection of weapons from their stash and leaving the rest at an inn they had hastily rented a room in, gathering an odd stare from the innkeeper. Murdoch didn't understand what that was about until Malcolm rather cheekily pointed it out.

"There was only one bed in the room."

"So?" he asked completely clueless.

Malcolm laughed. "Have you really forgotten _Fancy Feast_ so soon? I would have thought certain images were burned into your brain forever."

Murdoch flushed briefly, especially after remembering Julia's mistaken notion that he was a homosexual, and then got back to the task at hand.

* * *

When the coast was clear they made their way into the makeshift morgue in the general store's back room and investigated the body for clues. Without a doubt a vampire had killed this man, (several in fact, judging by the different diameter bite marks). Dr. Harwick was not to blame this time. But that didn't mean he wasn't somewhere nearby. Besides the bite marks on his wrists, arms, and neck, there wasn't anything of use to them. So they left and keeping as innocuous as possible, scouted out the town, looking for a likely vampire hideout. After checking out several barns on the outskirts, they headed to the only pub. Vampires were notorious drinkers. Excessive alcohol consumption apparently dulled the blood lust. At least that is what another hunter told him once.

Of course the vampires weren't going to be in _The Mighty Duck_ at this particular juncture but if they _had _been at some point in the recent past, it could lead to a clue of their current whereabouts. For all they knew, the vampires were no longer even in town. For once Murdoch hoped that was the case. That way he could still technically keep his promise to Julia.

However when they asked after a rowdy group of people from not around there, the barkeep instantly became confused.

"You're the second person to ask about them today."

Murdoch's stomach dropped. Malcolm intervened on his behalf. "Do you have any idea where they could be staying?"

"Why do you want to know so bad?" the older man asked, somewhat suspiciously. "You working with them coppers?"

Murdoch got the distinct impression that this man didn't like the police very much. He was going to exploit that dislike.

"No, nothing like that, sir," he said pleasantly. "But we _are_ just as invested in capturing them."

"Say," said the barkeep suddenly getting very interested, "there wouldn't by any chance be a bounty on their heads would there? I could really use the money to spruce up this place."

"Why yes there is, Mr. Drayler," said Malcolm, catching on quickly. "It's quite a _large_ amount too."

Rather than ask to see any proof of said bounty he simply exclaimed, "Oh boy!", rubbing his hands together, a greedy look in his eyes. Then he declared he didn't know anything and was closing up early for the day and told them to leave.

They waited around the corner and within minutes the older man had taken off at a brisk pace towards the stable. They followed some distance behind, keeping close to buildings in order to dash behind them if needs be. Mr. Drayler had a short conversation with a sour looking man and then still alone headed off towards the forest. Night was encroaching fast so they hurried in after him.

Trailing prey in wooded areas was one of their specialties. As such, it was remarkably easy for them to tail the barkeep without his hearing them. After a certain number of years, one inherently knew where to put his footfalls to avoid stepping on twigs and the like. In comparison, Mr. Drayler sounded like TNT exploding. Luckily for him it was not yet dark out, otherwise vampires from miles away would have been able to hear him.

Their trek completed, they were a short ways away from an isolated cabin. It reminded Murdoch of his late mentors but was not in nearly as good condition. Mr. Drayler went up to the door, tried it, found it locked and then pulled out a pistol from his inner leather coat pocket. Aiming quickly, he took the shot and the door swung inwards. He surged into the cabin, gun raised, apparently expecting to take them all unawares.

_Well, they're certainly that. _

Unfortunately his gun would be of no use. Drayler raised his voice so that they could hear him clearly from outside.

"I said, wake up you scoundrels! I'm gonna take you in!"

When that didn't have the desired effect he fired off another shot and then yelled at them some more.

"Are you all goddamn deaf?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He then tried to drag one of the vampires out by its arms. Its head lolled comically back and forth as they descended the stairs.

"Dear God you weigh a ton! I'm never gonna get you back this way!"

Finally a frustrated Drayler gave up and stomped out of the area. If he had simply dragged it a few inches further, the vampire would have burst into flames and given him the fright of his life. The hunters raised their weapons and were about to surge forward into the clearing when they heard rustling from off to the side. Hiding behind a large tree, they scanned the area, trying to determine whether it was a person or an animal.

When three people came into view, one of which was a woman, his heart nearly stopped like the undead creature's before him.


	19. Lightning Strikes Thrice

"I really don't think we should be out here," said Julia nervously, eyes trained on the dimming light above the treetops. George seemed to be echoing her thinking without any words, eyes darting around continuously.

"You weren't supposed to be," said Fallon, dismissively. "In fact, I believe I told you to stay put."

She hadn't expected to be out in these woods for so long. Besides, she couldn't leave them alone to deal with something they were completely unprepared for. Though the constable beside her was probably expecting a vampire to pop out at any moment. And indeed, after witnessing how savaged the murder victim had been, she was rather surprised Fallon had no inkling towards such an outcome.

"I don't like being told what to do," she replied, with more of her usual gumption.

"Clearly."

The front of a run down cabin came into view.

"Is that a...body?" murmured George, pointing straight ahead.

Julia's unease returned in full measure and she wished very much that William was there by her side so that she could hold on to him.

_Stupid, stupid. Why do I always have to be so pig headed in order to prove a point?_

"Quiet now," ordered Fallon, hunching down a bit so as to be out of view of the cabins windows. The detective retrieved a pistol and held up a hand to keep the others back as he checked out the prone man.

Fallon placed his fingers to his neck for several seconds and then glanced back at them shaking his head. He looked up towards the door and she followed his gaze to see that the latch was broken by what appeared to be a gunshot. Which made sense considering they had heard two shots fired not long ago and was the reason they had ventured over in this direction.

The fact that the dead man had no bullet hole in him made her very anxious and she was instantly suspicious. Fallon gestured towards George to head to the back door and raised a hand towards her. She wanted to scream at them to not go in there, that they should just run before it was too late but the words would not come out, her throat was so clogged with fear.

The police men did a sweep of the cabin in mere moments. She heard them trying to rouse the individuals to no effect. They came out to the porch and shook their heads, Fallon the more puzzled out of the two of them.

"It's the oddest thing, Dr. Ogden. There are two other women in there with no apparent injuries and no pulses. They don't appear to have been poisoned at all. Perhaps you can make some sense of things?"

She eyed the vampire at the bottom of the stairs with disgust and fear. George spoke up instead, even though he had begun to perspire.

"We should go, sir," he squeaked, "there's nothing of value for us here."

Fallon looked between the two of them. "What on earth is the matter with you two? You've been fidgety all afternoon, ever since we examined the first body."

_How can you not see it?_ she felt like screaming at him._ It's so obvious!_

"Oh, don't tell me," he said with a smirk. "Surely you don't believe vampires are at work here, Dr. Ogden? I had thought you more logical than that."

As he spoke, the last sliver of sunlight slipped into oblivion and night fell. Almost instantly the vampire behind the detective opened its eyes, its glowing red eyes. Which could mean only one thing. It was about to feed!

"Detective!" she shrieked, finally finding her voice. "Behind you!"

By the time he turned around the vampire was standing fully and inches from him. Fallon exclaimed aloud and jumped back out of surprise and fright.

"You smell delicious," said the vampire, with a grin, its pearly fangs exposed. "Which is fortunate because I'm starving."

"No," he said over and over again, backing up into the side of the cabin. "You can't be real!"

The detective shot the vampire in the torso, the only effect of which was a slight tear in its shirt. It smiled widely and continued to advance on him.

"This is going to be fun."

George yelped and Julia's head whipped towards the two female vampires that were surrounding him from both sides. He had his rifle trained on them intermittently, as if that would persuade them to back off.

"George!" she yelled, rooted to the spot in terror, with no clue what to do. Something William had told her flashed across her brain. "Aim for the heads!"

Taking her advice he shot the nearer of the two right smack between the eyes and it feel backwards. A few seconds later however, it got back up, with no evidence of ever being shot and continued to advance on him.

"Run, Dr. Ogden, run!" he screamed. "Save yourself!"

At his desperate plea she was finally roused into action and moved towards him to give whatever aid she could. Before she got too far though, a hand clamped around her mouth, while another wrapped around her body protectively. She squirmed for a moment until he spoke beside her ear.

"Where do you think you're going?"

William released her and she turned to face him, relief washing over her in waves.

"I want you to head back into town, where it's safe." He pointed to the West of them, "Head in that direction for about a mile. Take these," he added handing her a flashlight and a heavy revolver, "just in case."

She opened her mouth to argue but he put a finger to her parted lips. "Please just this once do as I ask."

Nodding a few times he smiled slightly and then his face became very determined and mask like, almost as if he were morphing into a different person. He moved past her, retrieving a large axe from behind his back as he strode forth. She noticed another darkened figure doing the same from the opposite direction. With a supreme effort she wrenched her eyes away from the raised axes and made her way as far back as the treeline when several shots were fired, accompanied by screaming, stopping her in her tracks.

She bit her lip wondering what had just happened. Somehow she stopped herself from running back to the cabin and continued on through the forest, occasionally tripping on tree roots and other vegetation because she wasn't paying enough attention to where she was going, mind wholly focused on the situation behind her.

An eerie silence permeated the air and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck spike. Julia chanced a look behind her and saw a pair of glowing eyes. Heart pounding wildly, she backed away from the creature and almost immediately tripped on something and fell down hard, losing her flashlight and gun. Frantically her hands searched for the revolver while her eyes stayed captivated by the vampire's. They grazed against something cold and hard and she gripped it tight in front of her.

The vampire swooped in and she took a shot at it's head but her hand was shaking so badly that she missed, hitting it in the shoulder instead. It hissed as the silver bullet penetrated its body, stalling its movement momentarily. She hoped it was painful as it looked.

All too soon it was after her again and this time she took a deep breath before she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened! The gun had jammed! When she dropped it, something must have lodged itself inside the barrel!

By the time she popped it open to investigate, the fiend was upon her, biting into her neck roughly. Her whole body spasmed and went limp, as if there was something in its bite that was making her weak. Still, she clawed at its face and tried to push it off but it continued to overpower her and she felt herself growing weaker and weaker as it fed off her life force. Right before she passed out, she heard a faint noise and a hole appeared in its head.

* * *

For several seconds after he killed the vile thing, he was frozen, unable to move at the sight of her lifeless body. Similar images of his mother and fiance flashed through his mind. Every woman he had ever loved had succumbed to death in this very same way. It seemed he was doomed to live through this fate over and over again until he was driven mad from grief and finally ended his own life. He fell to his knees and cried out.

Not long after, Malcolm and George, supporting an injured Fallon, came up behind him. His friend moved beside her and checked for a pulse.

"I think she's been poisoned...but she's still alive! You can still save her!"

Murdoch didn't respond. Malcolm grabbed him by the shoulders. "Snap out of it, Will! There's still hope!"

Malcolm slapped him in the face and finally he came back to his senses. He sprung into action, effortlessly scooping Julia up and sprinting through the forest as fast as he could, the others quickly getting left behind.

All he had to do was reach his needle and supply of vampire blood back at the inn before it was too late.

* * *

When she came to, she was beyond woozy and disoriented, but a welcome, unshaven face swam into view almost immediately. William clasped her hand and stroked her face with the free one, fingers trembling uncontrollably.

"What happened?" she asked with a croak, voice sore for some reason. Then she realized she was very thirsty, almost unbearably so.

"You were attacked two nights ago," he said in an equally strained voice. She noticed that he had dark bags under his eyes and looked very weary. _Had he been up this whole time? _

"Do you really not remember anything?"

Julia frowned, she thought hard and her body tensed up as that horrible night came back to her. The increase in adrenaline caused her neck to throb dully and she reached out to touch a bandage there.

"It's all right, you're safe now," he cooed. "There's nothing to worry about."

Nodding vaguely she asked for some water and he jumped up to get her some. After several greedy and unladylike gulps and slurps, she noticed him staring at her and slowed down the quenching process.

"Feel better?"

"A little, yes."

"I'm glad," he said, a small smile breaking out. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Where are we?" she asked, glancing around the small, shabby quarters.

"The only inn in town."

"We're still in Markham?" she said, surprised.

"Yes, well, you were rather weak," he said sadly. "I thought it best not to move you."

"And the others?"

"George and Jimmy have gone back to Toronto to report what happened here. Malcolm's been keeping me company."

"William, what exactly are they going to tell the inspector? Surely not the truth?"

"No, he would never believe it anyway. We came up with a plausible story, involving drugs...among other things. It should be enough to satisfy him."

She steeled herself. "Now that they've broken the truce, what does that mean for...us?"

Julia had expected him to try and avoid the question but instead he simply smiled a little and said, "Rest assured, Julia, I am done with being a vampire hunter. Balthazar stopped by yesterday and gave me his deepest regrets about this whole unfortunate business. It seems that they missed a few of his brothers unruly offspring during their purge. He's assured me that those were the last of them."

She wasn't sure which was more shocking. That William had referred to the vampire as a person or that he was being so naive.

"And you believed him?" she said incredulously. "Even after everything that's happened?"

William sighed, face falling. "What would you have me do, Julia? Inform the other hunters of this relapse? Break the truce again with more blood shed? Start a full out war?" Now agitated he said, "I thought you would be happy to hear this. Don't you want to be together?"

"Of course I do," she said, placing a hand to his face. He leaned into her touch. "I just don't want to see you torn between two worlds...should the worst happen."

He nodded vaguely, distantly and she squeezed his hand bringing him back to her.

"I know I promised to stay out of this-"

"William, I would have died...we _all_ would have if you had listened to me. Sometimes there are exceptions to the rule and this was one of them. So thank you."

The rest of the uncertainty evaporated from his tired face and they beamed at one another for some time. Suddenly she became very weary and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

He must have noticed her eyelids drooping. "I'll let you get some more rest."

"It looks like you could use some rest too."

"I'm fine."

"_William_."

"Oh all right," he said, getting up and heading towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, mister?"

He turned around with a puzzled expression and she patted the bed.

"Julia..." he murmured, blushing slightly, making her chuckle.

"What's the harm, William?" she said as seductively as she could given her current state. It must have sounded like a duck quacking. "There's no one else here. It'll be our little secret."

It was amusing to watch his internal struggle. She could practically see him running through all the possible outcomes should he accept.

"I'm sorry, Julia, but I can't."

Shamelessly trying a different tactic she said, "I'm afraid to be alone. Your presence comforts me. And more than anything I just want to be held."

Without another word he went to her side, kicked off his shoes and laid down beside her. There wasn't a lot of room on the bed, which forced them to snuggle up to one another. Head to his chest, they wrapped their arms around each other, forming a protective cocoon of warmth and sustenance. Before anything else could happen, the steady rhythm of his heart lulled her back to sleep.

* * *

**Okay, well, I think this story will be wrapping up in the next chapter so get ready to say goodbye to it.  
**


	20. Who You Are

**Three Years Later...**

Detective Murdoch slowly wiped the chalkboard clean and then intensely stared at the blank slate for several seconds. In some ways his own life had been like this board. Everything leading up to meeting Julia had been a precursor to his real life, the one he was always meant to have. Once he loved her his tormented life had been erased completely, allowing him to rewrite himself into the character he was fated to be. It seemed in the end, God had not forsaken him, had in fact always had a plan in mind. As such, Murdoch's faith was fully restored and he prayed every single day, like he hadn't done since he was an eight year old boy.

"William," called the voice of an angel.

Murdoch turned and came face to face with his wife. She was dressed in a beautiful golden gown and it took his breathe away, not unlike the first time they had kissed. He could swear there had been a halo above her head for the briefest of instances but knew it had just been his imagination, something that always seemed to work overtime when Julia was involved.

"You look marvellous," he managed to choke out. He pulled her in for a slow kiss and they savoured the feel and taste of each others mouths as if it was the first time.

She broke contact but still kept her arms around his neck.

In a breathy manner she said, "As much as I enjoy that, William, we really shouldn't start. Otherwise we are bound to be late." He raised an eyebrow, confused and she chuckled in an exasperated way. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about our engagement tonight?"

"I'm afraid I have," he replied sheepishly. "What were our plans again?"

Julia shook her head and chuckled once more. He was lucky she wasn't the type to get angry over his often absent mindedness. Otherwise their marriage would be far different than it was.

"We're meeting The Pendricks for dinner and then going to a production of La Boheme."

"Oh yes, of course."

Without further ado they parted and got down to their well worn routine. Julia closed all the blinds and doors while Murdoch stripped into his long johns and clothed himself in the tuxedo he always had at hand in his too small to change in closet. The dark room was out of the question. There were far too many chemicals one could spill or accidentally stick an errant sleeve into. No, this was the only way to go about it at work and more times than not, this is where it was done. The lads were well trained through embarrassing trial and error to never even bother knocking when his office was in lock down in the evenings. He should have just installed locks on either door but never seemed to get around to it, there was always something else to do.

In any case he was quickly dressed in the essentials and Julia came over to fix his bowtie. Murdoch was incapable of getting it straight no matter how many times he tried. Afterwards they smiled at one another.

"Thank you, Julia."

"You are most welcome, William."

Then she lifted his top hat from his work bench and placed it atop his head.

"Well, we best be going or we will definitely be late. And you know how much Emma hates waiting."

"Vividly."

James' wife was not an overweight woman by any means but she enjoyed eating and got very grumpy when she was hungry. The last time Murdoch had kept them waiting for more than an hour, Emma had nearly bitten his head off, quite literally, upon their arrival. Other than that she was a lovely woman, both in looks and demeanour and reminded him a lot of Julia. They were both headstrong and intelligent and interested in things most women were not, which in his opinion made them a hundred times more interesting than the average woman. Needless to say, they had quickly become fast friends and often made time for each other, by way of play dates with their children. So it was a bit of a welcome relief when it was just the adults getting together.

That's not to say he and Julia didn't love their adopted children very much. Because they did. Almost ridiculously so. Strangely it was usually Murdoch spoiling the children rotten and Julia trying to get him to show some restraint. She knew all too well what kind of people they would turn into if they always got everything they wanted. Her sister was a shining example of that. George was going to have his hands full with her, of that they had no doubt.

* * *

After the opera they wearily made their way home in the personal carriage her father had bought for them as a wedding gift.

She leaned against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. "That was lovely."

"Indeed."

"I wish we could attend these events more frequently."

"We could always retire early," he said with a grin.

Julia rolled her eyes. "Yes, because it's very likely that you will give up the position you just attained a few months ago. Besides, you wouldn't even know what to do with yourself if you had no profession. Neither of us would."

"Oh I can think of a few things," he said seductively, fingers lifting her chin upwards until their lips met. It was a sweet tender kiss, with little heat behind it. They were both too tired for anything else.

"That was lovely," she said afterwards with a smirk.

"Indeed," he replied and they both laughed softly.

* * *

As was their habit, they went to check in on their children before doing anything else, even removing their hats and coats. They were both sound asleep and Murdoch smiled at them, planting a kiss on their foreheads.

With the nanny now sent home it was just the two of them and they sat in front of the fireplace, simply holding on to one another, quickly drifting off to sleep like they had done in Markham all those years ago.

They were roused by a knocking at the door. Slightly startled they shared a look and then Murdoch forced himself to his feet and over to the disturbance.

Malcolm was on the other side and Murdoch was taken aback. They hadn't spent much time together since the forest incident. His friend had gone off to travel the world, as he hadn't been able to given his duties here.

"You're looking very dapper tonight, Will," he said, giving him a hug.

Murdoch patted him on the back. "Malcolm, what an unexpected surprise."

"I take it a welcome one though."

"Of course," he said with a smile.

His wife came up behind him. "Julia, my dear," Malcolm said kissing her gloved hand, "you are a vision."

"Thank you. You're looking, um..." her smile faltered.

"Dreadful, I know." Murdoch hadn't even noticed that his friends appearance was somewhat haggard and his hair was unkempt. "That's the price one pays when having constant adventures."

"Won't you come in and tell us about them?" she asked.

"I'd love to but it's late and I wouldn't want to disturb the children."

"Nonsense! They can sleep through anything."

Malcolm still seemed hesitant to come in and Murdoch wondered if there was an entirely different reason for his friend being here so late.

"Julia, do you think we could have a moment alone?"

She glanced between them. "But of course," she said with a kiss to his cheek. "I'm going to bed."

He highly doubted it.

"Goodnight," they both said almost simultaneously.

Murdoch closed the door and joined Malcolm outside.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing bad I assure you." Murdoch released his pent up breath. "I just thought you'd like to know that Dr. Harwick and his colleagues have finally developed a safe transfusion technique."

"Indeed? Why have I not heard of this before?"

_Surely Julia would have heard something given her line of work?_

"Well, it's just happened within the last few days and it's hardly common knowledge. All very hush hush. In any case, Dr. Harwick's associates plan on demonstrating the procedure to a group of medical professionals and investors in different parts of the world in a weeks time. They hope to impress them enough to get widespread approval. If they are successful, the public will soon be called upon to...donate their blood to save lives. And then the vampires will never have an excuse to hurt another human again."

There had been remarkably few incidents of this over the past three years. The ancients had held fast to their promise after a rough start.

"Thank you for telling me this Malcolm but I'm a bit confused. How did you come to know about this development? I thought you had severed all your ties to the other hunters...and vampires alike?"

"Not quite. I still had a foothold in the door. I found it difficult to completely say goodbye, something that I've always envied about you. Tell me, Will, how did you manage to put it all behind you," Malcolm snapped his fingers, "just like that?"

"Ah, well, it wasn't easy at first. I struggled for months after that night in the forest to put it out of my mind. But I eventually learned to focus my attentions on more important things."

"Such as your family?"

"Yes," he said nodding, "they are a large part of it."

"Hmm, maybe it's high time I settled down too."

Murdoch placed a hand to his shoulder. "I think that would be wise, old friend. You've seen better days."

"Well, I suppose I should let you get some rest. We'll catch up tomorrow, all right?"

He wasn't sure he would be able to given his unpredictable schedule but he agreed nonetheless.

"I would like nothing more."

They waved to each other and Murdoch watched Malcolm's progress until he was out of sight. Then he turned around and headed back to his three loves.

As expected Julia was not sleeping but was instead attempting to keep herself awake by reading a scary book, _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_.

She put it aside when he made an appearance and started disrobing.

"Is everything all right?" she asked a bit worriedly.

He hung up his suit jacket, moved to her side and leaned over, planting another kiss on her supple lips.

"Everything is perfect."

* * *

**You know me, I'm a sap for the happy endings. There are just certain characters that inherently deserve it, you know? **

**Well, on to that zombie fic. Cuz nothing says Christmas like a bunch of graphic violence. Am I right, or am I right?  
**


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